The Death of a Dream
by Yva J
Summary: Just before Willy Wonka closed his factory, he encountered Adam, an angel who tries to teach him that contrary to loss; trust and faith are not something to give up on.
1. Prologue: An Angel's Regret

_Hello everyone, before I explain this story to you, I wanted to clarify that it has been moved from TV shows (Touched by an Angel) to Books (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). It is a crossover, and therefore may not be interesting to you unless you know at least a little bit about each of these universes._

_This is a multi chapter story centering on Willy Wonka as well as the angels Adam and Andrew from the television show. It is based in the 1960's, thus the actions that take place in it are essentially before the show happens, and as well as before the Golden Tickets in the movie from 1971 come into existence. It was started because of a list I participate in at Yahoogroups, but somehow it evolved into a tale of suspense and intrigue that I have opted, instead of removing, to simply relocating it. That is, you don't have to be on the list or be an expert in the other universe to read this. In fact, all you have to know is that Adam, Sam, Andrew, and Tess are angels, and then be a tiny bit familiar with Wilder Wonkaverse as well as the stories Grandpa Joe told Charlie._

_This story takes place pre Golden Ticket contest, pre Charlie Bucket being given the factory. If you recall, Willy Wonka had been betrayed by spies who were sent in disguised as workers to steal his recipes. This story takes place just prior to those events. It is during this time, which to me defines why it is Willy Wonka needed an angel in the first place._

_I hope that you will enjoy this story, Since it has been moved from one section to another, there are a good 19 chapters already posted to it. I intend to fine tune the other chapters throughout today, so if you delve into this and find mistakes, some of them may already have been corrected._

_Enjoy and let me know what you think.

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**The Death of a Dream**

A '_Touched By An Angel_' & '_Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_'

Crossover Story

By: Yva J.

**Prologue: An Angel's Regret**

**April 12, 1965**

Adam sat alone on a bench, his shoulders slumped as his gaze darting from his knees to the grass that spread out before him. Periodically, he would run his hands through his hair and sigh. I failed, the Angel of Death thought morosely as he looked down at the bar of chocolate that rested on his lap.

The wrapping paper was somewhat faded, but the orange and brown color of it was still visible to the naked eye. In fact, the white writing that graced it somehow reminded him of what had happened, and this was something that he wished with all his heart that he could change, or at the very least, forget.

It had only been a week since he had arrived in this town.

A week to secure a job working in the Inventing Room to the world's largest chocolate factory, but also a week that would ultimately define for him that he had failed as a caseworker.

He had let down God, himself, and the man who, behind those high factory walls, had lost his faith in humanity. This had happened to such an extent that his assignment would close his factory forever, withdraw into himself, and never let a single solitary person inside again.

The man's heart was closed off, completely, and it seemed irreversible. He no longer trusted anyone, and it stood to reason, the betrayal he must have felt seemed hopelessly monumental.

No one could go back inside to try and help him see to reason, and that 'no one' included Adam. He had tried harder on this case than he had ever done before, and for all his attempts, it had become abundantly clear that the angel was not too terribly inclined to move on after this.

How could he?

Willy Wonka, his last assignment, now sat inside his factory, isolated from the rest of the world. The angel could not help him, and now the confectioner's world was completely falling to bits.

As he sat with his elbows on his knees, he did not see that his friend, and fellow Angel of Death, Andrew, had approached. It was not until his younger cohort spoke that he realized that he was no longer alone.

"Rough day?" Andrew asked, somehow knowing what Adam's response was going to be. He reached over and rested his hand on his friend's shoulder and offered it a gentle squeeze.

Good old Andrew, Adam thought sadly. Although younger in appearance, the two of them were like brothers, if there was such a thing as angels having that sort of bond with one another. He felt closer to Andrew than to any other angel. After all, it was Andrew who knew his quirks and mannerisms better than anyone else. It stood to reason as they had been on assignments together for centuries.

Of course, Andrew's medium stature and green eyes were familiar to every angel in the celestial realm. He had an easygoing manner that somehow countered Adam's bold 'in your face' demeanor.

Today, however, neither angel seemed to be in the mood to carry on a light hearted dialogue. In fact, they both seemed, if anything, a bit distracted by one thing or another.

Upon hearing the words emerging from Andrew as well as the leaves that crunched beneath his feet, Adam raised his head and offered a half-hearted smile as Andrew sat down on the bench next to him.

"Rough day?" Adam mused as though answering Andrew's question with one of his own. "You could say that. What about you?"

"Routine," Andrew replied, "but I talked to Tess and she said that we're going to have to stick around here for a little while longer."

"Why? So that she and Sam can come back and do damage control?" Adam asked, his voice emerging more spiteful than he intended. Thus, if anything, showed Andrew that the elder of the two Angels of Death was completely heartbroken about the way this case had spiraled out of control. It would perhaps be Andrew who would remind him that the Father was in complete control of things.

Of course, Andrew did not dare touch on that, he knew that angels sometimes forgot about these important things, and Adam was no different. Yet he also knew that Adam would need some time to realize that the things he was saying were inaccurate.

"I don't think it's that, Adam," Andrew eventually said, his voice laced in diplomatic undertones. "Maybe we're just not finished here yet. Perhaps there is still something that needs to be done and while we don't know what that something is, the Father does, and I am almost certain that it's not 'damage control'."

"OK, maybe you're right, but Andrew, what are you doing here?" Adam asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Were you working in the factory too? I never saw you there, but then again Willy Wonka had close to five hundred and fifty employees working there…at least he did, until today.""

"No, actually I was not sent in as a Caseworker, I came to take Clarence Bucket Home," Andrew said softly. "He was a man of faith, there is no question about that. But his family seems to be on the verge of losing everything, and I don't just mean going bankrupt, either."

"Maybe things will turn around for them," Adam said simply, although he was too distracted to immerse himself in the activities of his friend.

Taking a deep breath, and still trying to divert his focus, he continued speaking. "So what are you going to do now? I mean; if you have already taken him Home, then there is very little point to you sticking around."

"Well, my assignment is now his widow and their young son, Charlie," Andrew explained. "Charlie's only six, so you can imagine that his father was not all that old, only thirty-four. There are a lot of questions that need to be answered and things that need some semblance of resolution there."

"So, Clarence was pretty young then," Adam remarked halfheartedly. He cast a sideways glance over towards the factory, his thoughts literally racing.

"Yes, but he was also very sick. He had breathed in too many chemicals at his job, and it triggered a rare form of cancer. This is not a nice way to go, but sadly, it can happen. His family is really broken up about it. His wife Clara is going to try and secure a job, but without proper training, it will not reap very much, I'm afraid."

"Strange how Willy is the very same age and although he is still alive, he seems to feel as though he's lost everything. Yet the way he's going right now, it might as well have happened anyway."

"Adam, can you tell me what exactly happened to him?" Andrew asked.

"I don't really know," the older of the angels responded. "It started out like any normal assignment. I got word that I was to attain a job at the factory working for Willy Wonka in his Inventing Room. It was a strange place, looked like pieces of odds and ends scattered around in there, but somehow he was always able to make it work. Some people said it was magic, and although I know that the Father inspired great things in him, there was a distinct feeling of magic that remained.

"Anyway, it was in the midst of working there that I discovered that some of Willy's newest recipes and ideas were being stolen right out from under his nose. This morning, when I showed up for work, I realized that he must have known what was happening. I tried to go and speak to him, but I suppose his mind was already made up. He closed the factory and fired every last one of us.

"It happened just like that, the assignment just fell apart. I know that I'm out of practice with casework, but Andrew, I really thought I had gotten through to him. That or at least made him understand that not every person who walks through those gates is going to betray him."

"I think you did try, but he just wasn't ready to accept your words or the Father's loving assurances. Try and start from the beginning," Andrew said.

"Well, it's like I said, it all started a week ago…"


	2. Chapter 1: A New Beginning

_I have removed all author's notes, except for the notations made in the reviews about problem places. If you see something else in the story that looks wrong, bring it to my attention. You'll know when the new updates are done, as I intend to put an edited notation at the bottom of notes after each chapter has been updated._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 1: A New Beginning**

**April 5, 1965**

Adam's assignment had started like any normal case might.

The sky overhead had just released another cloudburst and it was the kind of day that would have left most people inside their homes and cuddled up with a cup of tea and a good book. For normal people, that is, but that was not the general way of things for an angel.

If truth were known, Adam would have preferred being inside, but instead he found himself standing rather insecurely on the outskirts of what looked to be a very large factory complex. Above his head, he could read the name 'Wonka' woven across in black metal. The inside held a large courtyard, which on this day was vacated. This was not necessarily because the factory was closed, but rather because on that particular day, it was Saturday.

Every so often, the wind would blow, thus leaving Adam to feel as though he was about to be hurled through the air, the umbrella he held making him look rather like something straight out of a fantasy film.

He had been told to meet someone at the front gate, but was not entirely sure whom it was he was scheduled to meet with. He was, to say the least, not quite accustomed to this sort of work. In fact, generally, he was an Angel of Death and not a Caseworker. This seemed not to matter one iota to the Father, because it was his presence that had been requested, and not some other angel. He also knew better than to even inquire as to why he was even here.

Yet, he was about to do what his friend, Andrew, had spoken of on many occasions. In fact, these kinds of cases were something that Andrew was perhaps better equipped for than he was. Of course, he was always ready and willing to give it his best shot, and whatever his friend had done seemed of no great consequence.

Perhaps this would give him more confidence since Adam was known to joke about being more productive than a fast-food restaurant.

During the past week, he had spoken to Sam on several occasions about this kind of work and somehow felt as though he was out of practice with working with people who were not dying.

The other angel had looked at him as though about ready to scold him for his blunt observations, but instead, concluded that perhaps this might make a difference in Adam's ways of looking at himself, as well as issues of life and death.

Abruptly, he was brought out of his reverie when a familiar voice emerged.

"It's nice to know that you can be counted on to be punctual, Adam." He turned around to see that Tess was now standing next to him, one of her hands against her hips and the other holding an obnoxious floral print purple, pink and green colored umbrella, which kept the rain off her graying hair.

"Sam said that another Supervisor would be helping me with this case, are you the angel in question, Tess?" Adam asked as he unconsciously cringed, his umbrella shifting from one hand to the other.

It was no secret that although he was not necessarily accustomed to working with her and their conversations were generally 'business related', he did respect her. She had an attitude about things that somehow made her difficult to talk to. Perhaps it was much easier than the other angels he knew, but still not always easy. She also did not seem to take to his humor all that well, and that somehow made things even harder for him to contend with.

"Yes, baby," she said with a motherly smile crossing her features. "Are you ready to get the low down on this assignment?"

Adam nodded, but did not add that he was actually more ready to get out of the rain. The weather was getting to him and the spray from the rain was starting to tickle his nose. As his thoughts began to drift, the scenery abruptly changed from a rainy and uncomfortable exterior to what looked to be a strangely decorated office interior.

The first thing the angel took in were the colors of yellow and white, that literally jumped out at him. The yellow stripes carried a floral like print, while the white ones were simply white in color. These interchanged with one another and were several centimeters in width. They also extended all around the office, thus giving it a comfortable and welcoming sort of essence.

On each of the walls, Adam began to take in strange picture frames, a mirror, as well as a cuckoo clock.

The oddness of everything in this room immediately made Adam's focus shift from interest in the assignment to the strange décor of the room. A feeling of fascination abruptly washed over him as he recalled how everything that was hanging there had been cut in half. Even the clock that hung solemnly on one side was ticking as though a complete and working object, but it too had been cut in half.

Adam wordlessly continued to take in the other objects around him. Not only were the wall decorations cut in half, but everything inside the office was as well. The desk, the chair, the hat rack, and even the typewriter that rested on the filing cabinet were all sawed in half.

How very strange, the angel thought as he finally took in the man who sat perched on half a chair in front of half a desk. Next to him, several papers were placed in half a metal rack. In his hand, he held a ballpoint pen and seemed to be hard at work. His back was to the two angels, but since they were both in angelic form, he did not gasp, or even turn around to acknowledge their presence. Instead, he simply sat there, the soft scratching of his pen against paper the only sound to emerge.

Adam watched as the man reached over and took the cigar that was in half an ashtray and took a small draw on it. The smoke from it wafted up and circled around his head like a halo.

"Why is everything cut in half?" He eventually asked Tess, his curiosity ultimately getting the better of him.

"Did you ever hear the Chinese proverb about 'yin and yang' baby?" Tess asked in response to his inquiry.

"Yes, the black signifies the negative and the white signifies the positive. For every positive thing, there exists a small amount of negative, and vice versa," Adam said. "At least that's what I think it is, I am actually too nervous to remember."

"Yes, you pretty much got it, Adam, but your assignment takes the lessons of 'yin and yang' quite literally," Tess explained. "He cut everything in half to get rid of the negative aspect of things, but unfortunately, that depressing energy is about to catch up with him in a very, very big way. Right now it is going to be your job to help him to realize that sometimes in order to understand the whole feeling that permeates a person, once must accept the powerful lessons that are incased in these kinds of spiritual philosophies." She paused as her next words dramatically enfolded him. "Adam, this man is dying."

"From smoking?" Adam asked as he unconsciously wafted his hand in front of his face. Although in angelic form, his sensitive nose could still pick up the smoke from the cigar. As if by impulse, he watched as his assignment reached for the object and took another draw on it.

"No, he doesn't smoke enough to make himself sick, although I would give him a stern talking to about that if _I_ was his caseworker. The truth is, he's spiritually dying and that is almost just as bad," she explained. "The smoking is just a way for him to divert his focus from his worries to some inanimate object. He is not generally one who smokes, but it does help him to dispel his nervous energy and right now, the rumors he has been hearing, have been enough to send him down a very traumatic road, indeed."

Adam watched as the man mashed out the cigar and turned around in the chair. It was then that he got a better look at his face. "He looks fine to me," Adam mused as he took in the man's physical attributes. He had smooth features, an almost coy look about him. That is, when he smiled, which at that moment did not seem to be happening, his face could somehow carry a hidden element of mischief to it. In fact, as he turned around, his lips had slowly turned up slightly as though he knew, or thought he knew, that the two angels were physically there. Adam eventually looked at Tess.

"Can he see us?" He asked.

"No, baby, he can't," she said. "Perhaps his senses are a bit more heightened than we originally assumed, but as far as I know, he cannot see or hear us."

Adam nodded as he took in the man's strange dress. It looked to be rather reminiscent of the Victorian English period. He wore beige pants, which, for some strange reason, seemed complementary to the rest of his peculiar attire.

Wordlessly, the man retrieved the plumb colored coat and pulled it on. This covered the sleeves to his shirt as well as the floral print colored vest. On the front of that, silver colored buttons extended down over his chest and abdomen. A green colored bowtie was bunched at his neck, the strangeness of it, somehow fitting to perfection the rest of his eccentric attire.

The caramel colored top hat rested on the hat rack seemed to complete his strange look, yet, Adam could not tell if he wore it, or just left it there as a decorative touch to the already strange looking office.

Tess' voice abruptly brought him back to the present.

"Baby, let me tell you something, death is not merely centered on the notion of someone living, getting sick, and dying. One could be alive, but they may not necessarily be living in the very same sense as we think," she said. "And William Wonka has been through far more grief in the last twenty something years than one could imagine enduring in a lifetime."

"But he seems so happy," Adam objected. "Perhaps a bit distracted, but still he looks as though he is in pretty high spirits."

"That's a façade, Adam," she said with an unhappy sigh. "Let me tell you something, Adam. Beneath that happy-go-lucky exterior, this man could write a book about concealing his feelings and trying to shadow them with an abundance of overconfidence. That may, perhaps fool just about anyone, but it doesn't fool the Father, and it certainly will not fool you, if you look deep enough.

"Your job is going to be to help him see through his own self-made façade and find a way to accept one of the greatest challenges he has ever contended with in his life."

"You said his name was William Wonka?" Adam asked.

"Yes, and before you ask, the answer is yes, he is one of the most famous candy makers in the world. But, even as a prominent individual, he must come to grips with his own internalized sorrow just as the rest of us do. He has issues of trust, some of which go back to his father, while others, are consumed in ambition to prove to himself that he is the greatest confectioner in the world."

"OK," Adam nodded. "So what exactly will I be doing? What I mean is, how will I reach him?"

Tess nodded. "You will be going in and obtaining a job working as a technician inside his factory."

"Is that the only way I can get close to him?" He asked. "By working for him?"

"Yes, and believe me baby, once you do get this job, this will be one you won't likely forget. Working for Willy Wonka is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I am almost certain that you will handle this one just fine," she said smiling. "What I can tell you right now is that the important thing for you to do is earn Willy's trust and allow him to help you in very much the same way you will help him."

"Tess, you've lost me again," Adam objected.

"You have low confidence, Adam, and you're the only angel that is able to learn that from a human, so the Father wants you to learn confidence from Willy. But at the same time, you will discover that you and William Wonka have far more in common than you will be able to fathom." She smiled at him. "Now I best be off, Andrew has a new assignment here and I will be checking in with him now and again as well."

"What will he be doing, Tess?" Adam asked.

"Oh, just the usual. There's a man here in town who has been sick for many months now and Andrew has been assigned to take him Home," she said and within seconds, they were once more outside on the sidewalk in front of the factory.

"Tess, when do I have to go for the interview?" He asked.

She pressed a key into his hand. "First thing Monday morning, Willy is expecting you at nine, and I would strongly suggest that you not be late. He holds punctuality in very high regard, very much like I do, now that I think about it."

Adam nodded and once Tess had disappeared, he found himself in human form and making his way down the street in the direction of the boarding house where he would be living during the duration of his assignment.


	3. Chapter 2: A Robin and Blue Jay

_Thanks again to my reviewers for their kind words. It means a great deal to me that people are taking the time to read and review the story. I hope that you continue to enjoy this._

_Please keep me posted on how this is going. Zarz, your comment has been so noted and the section has been updated._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 2: A Robin and Blue Jay**

On the other side of town, Andrew was standing, his eyes staring at an old broken down house. The small dwelling, from the outside, looked to be about the same size as a shed that people used to store tools as well as other equipment inside of. The overall essence of the place seemed to emanate poverty, and yet, from where he was standing, he could distinctly make out the sounds of a little boy's happiness filling the air from inside.

Stepping closer, he found himself peering into the strange looking house from the front window. The first thing he saw was the little boy standing in the room with what looked to be a candy bar clenched tightly in his fist.

"Happy birthday, Charlie," suddenly emerged from the confines of the house and the boy was handed a small parcel by the blonde headed woman, whom the angel guessed was the child's mother as the two them looked so much alike.

Instead of standing around outside and feeling rather like a peeping tom, he entered the house, his angelic form preventing the occupants from physically seeing him. In this state, the Angel of Death did not even have to use the front door.

Coming inside, he could make out the rather obscure sleeping arrangements of the four old people in the bed. Two laid at one end of it, while two at the other. One of the ladies was knitting what looked to be a scarf or a pair of socks. Her hands were busily brushing over the inexpensive wool she used as though it was the finest silk in the world.

To the left of where he was now standing a small kitchen with an old-fashioned hutch was visible. Andrew immediately liked the hutch as it reminded him of something straight out of an antique shop. Between the front door and the bed where the elderly people rested, a rather antique looking dining table with two chairs was situated. On the table there was a small basket where a very small loaf of bread was placed.

Shifting his attention back to the events taking place in the room, Andrew watched as the child opened the small parcel and beheld a wrist watch that was wrapped in several paper towels inside the package. "Oh wow, Mom, it's great."

"Your father and I figured that you needed one for when you start school," she said. "We're only sorry that it could not be more that."

"It's OK," the boy said, with obvious appreciation in his voice.

It struck the angel to see the element of gratitude that emanated the small child. Generally people were not always that gracious for the things they received and while he imagined that some children would be ungrateful, this child was not, in fact, he was quite happy with what he had been given.

Andrew found himself watching as Charlie wound the watch band around his skinny arm and affixed it before leaning over and showing it to his bedridden grandparents. At last he spoke as he showed it to one of the people in particular.

"Look, Grandpa Joe, it's great isn't it?" Charlie asked softly as he showed his arm proudly to his grandfather.

The older man nodded. "Go and let your father see it, I'm sure he would love to know that his gift was well received."

Nodding, the little boy walked over to the bed where his father lay, his eyes closed and his breathing uneven. "Dad, it's just like yours," he proclaimed happily, but Andrew could see that Mr. Bucket was not moving or even acknowledging his son's excited words. In fact, for some reason, the angel instinctively knew that the boy's father had given him his own watch because he had no further use for it.

He turned and looked at the boy's mother, who had an unreadable look now shadowing her face, but instead of speaking, she started to walk slowly back in the direction of the kitchen.

It was only her father, the one the boy called 'Grandpa Joe', whose voice made her abruptly stop. "That is Clarence's watch, isn't it, Clara?" He asked softly, his voice barely inaudible to the child.

The woman nodded sadly. "Clarence doesn't want Charlie to know that," she whispered. "Please respect his wishes, Dad."

The man with the bushy mustache nodded sadly. "One day you're going to have to tell him the truth though."

"One day, perhaps, but not now," she whispered, her attention shifting to the boy who was now sitting on the edge of his father's bed.

"Thanks for the wonderful birthday present, Dad," Charlie said softly, his voice cracking. Somehow, Andrew could tell that the child knew what was coming.

He took a deep breath, but continued to watch the scene play out with keen interest. Nothing could change the fact that the Angel of Death was heartbroken by the words he had heard emerging from the child. He would have to take Clarence Bucket Home soon. There was no other alternative. God was ready for it, and so was Clarence.

Sighing sadly, Andrew glanced skyward. "Please Father, don't make me take him on the child's birthday, it would break Charlie's heart."

When the affirmative answer came back to him that Clarence would still have some time after Charlie's birthday, the Angel of Death released a pent up sigh as he continued with his silent observations.

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Seconds after uttering his prayer, Andrew's silent observations were interrupted by Tess, who appeared and looked around the depressing little house, her dark eyes somehow laced in her own brand of empathy. Instead of commenting on the desolate state of their home, she looked at Andrew. "They're quite a family, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," Andrew said with an affirmative nod.

"You mustn't be too sad about this, Andrew, you knew it was going to happen," she said.

"Perhaps I did, Tess, but Charlie's only six and I am not sure he understands what's happening. I watched him with his father just now and the whole scene just about broke my heart."

"I know, baby, and I know that you are trying to contend with this issue in the best way you know how. Every angel in the celestial realm knows that it not only breaks your heart to have to take children Home, but it does empower and touch you in a unique way. Perhaps it was for hat reason that the Father thought you should be the angel on this case," She paused. "You remember that old saying, baby?"

"What saying, Tess?" He asked softly.

"The saying that you had to be reminded of when you had an especially difficult case," Tess said softly. "When the Father closes a door, He always opens a window."

"I know that, but that child is only six and he's losing his father. I mean; I see a child who somehow knows what is happening and must somehow prepare himself emotionally for these events. How does one teach a child that young how to say good-bye?" Andrew whispered. "There are no windows for him, Tess."

"Oh there's a window, Andrew," Tess said as she took a deep breath before continuing. "Have you perhaps forgotten to contemplate that? All you are seeing is the physical incarnation of what is happening today, but have you considered what may come tomorrow?"

"No, I've been pretty much stuck in the moment," he whispered. "What could come?"

"Come with me, Andrew, I'm going to show you," she said.

Reluctantly the Angel of Death slowly followed the supervisor out into the stormy weather. After some time, they silently stopped when they reached the same spot where Tess had met Adam earlier that same day. "You see, that's the window of opportunity that's waiting for Charlie." She pointed towards the smokestack of the factory that now loomed over them. Andrew read the name 'Wonka' that extended across the front gate, but shook his head.

"Charlie Bucket and Willy Wonka?" He asked. "I don't understand, Tess."

"Does it surprise you that Adam is going to be working inside that factory and has intentions of helping that man find a sense of family?" Tess asked. "Do you remember the story of the robin and the orphan blue jay?"

"No, but it's been a long time since you have been inspired to tell me stories," Andrew responded somewhat shyly. At the same instant, something told him that she had every intention of doing just that and that the story she was about to share would hold a moral.

"It was said once upon a time that there was a robin, a beautiful red robin with wonderful feathers and she could sing the sweetest songs in the world.

While that particular bird was beautiful and knew it, there was a hidden sadness in the depths of her world. She had lost her baby. Because of that one event, she was lonely and sad, her heart aching at the prospect of spending the rest of her life alone.

One day, a baby blue jay was born, it's feathers a bit uneven, and rather a scraggily creation. But, he was loved every bit as much as the beautiful birds were. The sadness came when his mother had lost her life while out searching the countryside for food and nourishment for her baby. Of course, the baby did not know this, and so he waited and waited for his mother to return, but when she did not, he set out alone to search for her. Would he come to discover that his wonderful mother was gone and he was all alone? The Father had plans for both of his children.

After the blue jay continued his search, he soon lost his faith that he would ever see her again. Then after so many days of searching, he met the robin who had, through some unfortunate situation witnessed the death of the baby's mother.

Not having a child any longer, the Robin knew of the heartache that the baby blue jay must have been facing. So, she made herself known to him, and over time, they discovered that the robin had lost her child, and the blue jay had lost his mother. The match up was perfect and a new family was born."

"But these are birds, not people," Andrew objected.

"Perhaps, but a family may be discovered through such an event. This was not created by blood, Andrew, but instead by love." She cast a glance towards the factory. "Willy Wonka is Adam's assignment, Charlie's family is yours. Don't you see, baby? Love is not defined entirely by the bonds of blood kin, but instead love is love. There's a reason for all these things to happen, Andrew, and through your and Adam's work here, you will bring two lost souls together. Even if that event does not come about until Charlie Bucket is twelve-years-old, you are both preparing the foundation for it to happen."

That's six years away, Andrew thought with a numb sort of nod. Not knowing what to say next, the angel simply stared up at the factory, his breathing now even with the breeze as it wafted about him.

Instead of acknowledging Tess' final words, he inched his way closer to the factory gate, his hand silently wrapping around the heavy metal bars that extended like prison bars in front of him. Perhaps he would be able to help the Bucket family, but the question still remained: How did all of this involve Willy Wonka?


	4. Chapter 3: The Interview

_Hello and welcome to the latest installment of this story. I really am blown away by all the nice reviews I have recieved on this. So my thanks to my reviewers for the wonderful support._

_There are many things about the film and the show in this that I want to go over real quick. The writing on Willy's door and the contract are taken directly out of the movie. These are specific things that I thought would be fun to highlight. I also had Willy sort of test Adam in the same way he tested Charlie in the movie. So various Willyisms are in the chapter._

_The TBAA element, aside from the angelic presence comes from the Season 6 episode, 'Then Sings My Soul', where the assignment was 'Uncle Dudley's' son. Uncle Dudley was a taffy maker and I thought it would be neat if he could sort of be friends with Willy. This was actually one of my favorite episodes of the show because of the music, and the fact that it was a candy factory. I hope you enjoy it. But, of course, if you have questions about anything here, just ask in your reviews, and I will answer._

_Enjoy and thanks for keeping me posted on how this is shaping up._

_Onlyaman, the notation you noted about this chapter has been found and changed. Thanks for the head's up._

_Edited January 14, 2009._

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**Chapter 3: The Interview**

The following day dawned sunny and bright.

Adam arrived at the factory gates early to see the workers drifting into the large open courtyard. Men and women from every walk of life seemed to be employed at the factory, their steps somehow as deliberate and careful as the work that they did.

He looked down at the file that he carried, the tossed together recommendation letter, the job listings, which had essentially been pieced together from the past assignments that he had had.

Tess and Sam had organized this for him and through their help, he now had something that resembled an employment history. These various pages were stuffed inside a manila file that would be handed over to Willy Wonka the minute his interview with the candy maker was to start.

The two supervisors seemed convinced that his credentials would impress the chocolatier, but Adam never wanted to count his turkeys until they were hatched.

Somehow he knew better than to assume too much about human beings. In doing that, he realized that disappointment would be inevitable.

Strangely, the only experience that Adam had in the area of confectionary arts was a brief stint at a place called 'Taffy Town' back in the United States. This had been just after the place had opened. He was sent there because the man whom everyone fondly called 'Uncle Dudley' had lost his faith and considered quitting after Andrew had taken his mother home.

Adam had actually enjoyed getting to know the candy maker during that time, but it was still a challenging experience and he wondered if this case would parallel that particular scenario.

Sighing, the angel found himself following the other workers through a door that led into a long skinny hallway covered with squares in shades of blues, yellows, grays, and pinks. Everything about this hallway seemed reminiscent of the era that the world had somehow submerged itself into.

Aside from the color explosion, the hallways were otherwise brightly lit and clean.

He continued to walk slowly in the direction of where he hoped his assignment's office would be. He knew that he was to be punctual for his nine o'clock appointment and that not only would Willy be annoyed with his tardiness. For what it was worth, so would Sam and Tess.

He stopped briefly and looked over at another man who was walking alongside him, his expression turned down in a somewhat annoyed frown. Trying to Ignore the hostile demeanor of the man, he spoke. "Excuse me, but could you please tell me the way to Mr. Wonka's office?" He asked.

The man grunted, but wordlessly pointed down an abandoned hallway to a door that was near the far end of the corridor. "Thank you," Adam mumbled as silent man disappeared into another crowd of workers.

Slowly, the Angel of Death turned caseworker made his way down the indicated hallway.

As he reached Willy Wonka's office, he began to read the strange writing that adorned the door. From top to bottom, it was covered completely with gold writing, each set of words separated by matching gold stars. Words like: 'Chairman of the Board', 'President', 'Vice President' and 'Director' were etched across it in bold-faced type. This either depicted a man on a severe ego trip, or someone who had overextended himself beyond any sort of recognition.

"So, baby, are you ready?" A voice suddenly emerged and he nearly dropped the small folder he carried as he turned around and noticed that Tess was once more standing next to him. For whatever reason, he figured that she would eventually stage an appearance, he simply did not know that it would be now. "You look a bit nervous."

Adam nodded, but instead of snapping at her for having just about scared him to death, he shrugged his shoulders. "Hi Tess, where's Sam?" He asked as he stuffed the folder under his arm so that he could rub his hands together as an attempt at getting himself in check.

"He asked me to check in with you and see how you were doing," she said. "You look about as nervous as Andrew did during his first evaluation. I remember that day all too well, too. He had just finished his assignment helping some slaves escape to freedom on the Underground Railroad. Talk about nervous, that Angel Boy looked as though he was about to climb the walls. This won't be that hard, baby."

"I know, Tess, and the truth is, I don't know why I'm so nervous," Adam confessed. "These sorts of cases should be easy for me, but ever since yesterday when we spoke, something has been gnawing at me about it. I know that this is not going to be as hard as Andrew's case, but I also know that behind that door is a man who is consumed in his work. Perhaps he is someone others might consider as an arrogant, self-centered tycoon, but something tells me he is not. The problem is, who's to say that Willy Wonka is even going to listen to anything I've got to say? He's a pretty big wheel in this business, and to him I'm just another worker."

"Not just another worker, baby, you are a presence, and don't forget who sent you here," she said, a comforting smile breaking through. "Trust me you're going to be just fine."

"Maybe," he mumbled as he looked once more at the writing on the door. When he turned back to speak with Tess, he realized that she was now gone.

This was his show, and he sincerely hoped that he would not blow it.

Willy Wonka was a household word, and for better or worse, he was about to come face to face with him.

Newspapers, magazines, and television seemed to constantly report how Wonka's candy had turned around the local economy. His chocolate was selling so well that everyone speculated as to what the competition was going to do about it. Of course, no one really thought about the fact that the spirit of the man behind the famous candy was on the verge of breaking. They simply figured that there was no one else who could ride as high as Willy Wonka presently was doing.

Something in Tess' words reminded Adam of the human aspect of things. Wordlessly, he reached over and began to tap lightly on the door.

When it eventually opened, he found himself standing before a man who had the flamboyant look of a peacock. On his head, he wore a caramel colored top hat. It tilted somewhat to the right, even though the man's head was erect. Peering out from beneath the hat, golden curls framed a handsome face.

Adam continued to take in the physical attributes of the man, first darting a look at a pair of matching blue eyes, and a casual smirk that lined his lips. His clothes were equally strange, consisting of a white shirt, floral print vest, and green colored bowtie. The sleeves of his shirt were puffy as though he had shopped for his attire at the local renaissance fair.

"You must be Adam, my new Inventing Room assistant," the man greeted him with an extended hand. Instead of shaking hands, however, the man lightly touched the angel's shoulder before ushering him into the room. "I'm Willy Wonka."

I sort of guessed, Adam wanted to say, but instead of shooting back a quirky response, he simply nodded before following his assignment back into the office. The door was abruptly closed behind them.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wonka," he said politely. It seemed as though, even after having seen the room once, he could still not tear his gaze away from the unusual furnishings of the office. He stared for several moments at the half a clock that ticked on the wall. He wondered if the cuckoo had also been sawed in half as well.

Next, he spotted the matching waistcoat to Willy's eccentric attire hanging on a strange construction that looked to be a coat rack. Willy removed his hat and placed it on a hat stand that was just over the desk. This gave Adam the ample opportunity to take in his assignment's Frankenstein-like hairdo.

This place is so strange, he thought as his assignment next retrieved what looked to be a half a stool and rolled it casually over to the desk. Once it had been parked next to his chair, Willy patted it as though indicating that he should take a seat.

Adam obliged and found himself lowering onto the obscure looking chair. He could not stop himself from wondering if he was going to teeter over and abruptly land on the floor. He soon realized that contrary to the strange looking stool, it was rather a comfortable place to sit. The angel began to wonder why that was the case, but his observations would abruptly be interrupted by Willy's first question.

"So, you're looking for work on a more scientific, or inventive level. Is that correct?" Willy asked as the angel silently nodded before handing over his resume as well as the stack that Sam and Tess had given to him.

Willy accepted the items before reaching for what looked to be a pair strange sawed in half spectacles so that he could read the print that covered the page. When he noticed that it was large enough for the naked eye to see, he cast off the spectacles and continued to read the notations on the form.

"Let's see, your name is Adam Engel," Willy muttered. "Did you know that that's 'angel' in German."

Adam nodded. "Yes, so I've been told."

"It says here that you live at one hundred twelve Harrington Way. That's the address for a special homeless shelter, isn't it?"

"Yes, my friend Tess runs it and she asked me to move in there and help with odds and ends around the house. That is, of course, when I'm not working," Adam quickly recovered.

"I see, well, moving on," Willy mused as he skimmed over the form. After several seconds of flipping through the papers, he abruptly stopped what he was doing and raised his head and looked at Adam. "You worked at 'Taffy Town'?"

"Briefly," Adam responded.

"What happened, did they fire you?" Willy asked, a casual smirk suddenly lining his, otherwise serious, face. "Or did you get caught in the taffy machine?"

Adam took a deep breath, not really certain if the chocolatier was actually joking with him. His eyebrows arched somewhat and Willy chuckled.

"It was a joke," he said. "Maybe Uncle Dudley fired you for not having a sense of humor."

"I have a sense of humor, it's just not something I bring out for a job interview," Adam quipped.

Willy smiled and nodded approvingly as his attention returned to the papers. "Well, you seem to have a good background, but you have no other letters of reference besides this Tess person. Is she the same person you're helping at the homeless shelter?"

"Yes," he nodded.

Willy nodded but continued to read the papers all the while concentrating on whether or not one person's word would account for Adam's level of truthfulness or integrity. "You look as though you have been working for a lot longer than what is stated on this resume."

"I have, actually," he admitted. "If you would like then I could put you in touch with someone else, but I honestly didn't think about it."

Willy nodded as he began to read the more interesting tidbits about the man he was considering giving a job to. As he read, the confectioner's arm nudged what looked to be a slip of paper that covered another group of files on the desk. Adam did not know what that was, but when the object eventually fluttered to the ground, he leaned over and retrieved it.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wonka, but you just dropped this," he said as he extended the slip of paper over to the candy maker.

"Oh, thank you," Willy said as he took the offered slip and cast it into the basket that was on the other side of his desk. Instead of addressing Adam, he continued to quietly study the references.

This gave Adam the adequate time to take in the finer points of the man's office, his gaze coming to rest on one of the paintings that was on the wall just over the desk. Studying it, he realized that the object hung in a strange manner, thus leaving Adam to ponder what his assignment's rationale was for having such obscure decorations around. For whatever reason, he could not fully grasp the Yin and Yang argument that Tess had offered up the day before. Maybe if he got to know the confectioner better, he would just come out and ask.

Abruptly, Willy's voice jerked him out of his reverie.

"You have the job."

"I do?" Adam asked, the overt confusion now lining his face. Never did he imagine for it to be that easy. "Why?" He found himself asking.

"You have a trustworthy manner about you," the chocolatier said simply as he got up from the desk as he retrieved the paper that Adam had returned to him only moments ago. "Did you read what was on that piece of paper you gave back to me?"

"No, I didn't, it was not any of my business," Adam said honestly.

"That's why you got the job," Willy said, his voice laced with simplicity. "You may find my motives rather obscure, but this is the only way I can really find out if people I hire can really be trusted here."

"You have problems with trusting people?" Adam asked.

"In a way, yes. There are rumors going around that people want to betray me, and I figure that it is perhaps a good idea for those I consider hiring to undergo a little test. After all, you will be working in the most secret room in the entire factory, and I should feel as though I can trust you." Willy said.

Instead of elaborating on this point, he walked over to the half a filing cabinet that was on the adjacent wall. Strangely enough, the paper he reached for was also cut in half. That is the normal size would have been like a piece of regular typing paper, but these forms were also cut in half as well, thus keeping in tune with Willy's strange décor.

He handed the paper to Adam before scrounging around the desk in search of a ballpoint pen.

Finding one, he extended it so that Adam could fill out the paper on the corner of the desk. He could see things like 'name, age, as well as address, date of birth and previous employer' But, there were also questions like 'first pet', 'favorite candy', 'favorite breakfast cereal' and finally 'favorite saying'.

Adam quickly answered these questions, with 'baby turkey named Ted', 'Chocolate', 'Cheerios' and 'God loves you'.

Stapled to the back of that paper, a form, or better said, a contract was affixed. After having read through as much of the black and white copy of the factory contract, Adam grinned as the Latin words 'fax metis incendium gloria culpum' _(the torch of the mind lights the path to glory)_ and 'memo bis punitor delicatum.' _(I remember the spoiled punisher twice) _lining the strange contract's conditions. Suppressing his amusement, he affixed his signature at the bottom of the page before returning the whole lot to Willy.

Once the chocolatier had put everything into the file, he placed it into a half metal basket and turned back to face the angel. "Well, we have to get on, we have so much time and so little to do…uh, strike that, reverse it, thank you."

Adam mutely nodded as he stood up and started to follow Willy towards the door. The chocolatier grabbed his purple colored waistcoat and led the angel out of the office and down the colorful hallway in the direction of the Inventing Room.


	5. Chapter 4: An Angel's New Job

_Hello everyone._

_Victory-Starr, YaYa, and JenniOnThisSide, I really appreciate you taking the time to review this and am glad that you are all enjoying the various aspect of the story. The reviews really do motivate me to work on this and I sincerely hope that more readers will keep me posted on how this is shaping up. I hope you all continue to enjoy this._

_Take care and do enjoy. :)_

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 4: An Angel's New Job**

Ten minutes after having left the office, Adam's mind was literally reeling. That had no doubt been the strangest interview of his entire existence.

As the confectionary genius led the Angel of Death turned Caseworker through the twists and turns of the corridor, Adam began to take in the mysterious world of Willy Wonka. On one side of the corridor where he was walking, there were signs indicating the way to the 'Chocolate Alps', or 'Gumdrop Mountain'. He was starting to ponder if he had suddenly been tossed straight into a magical world that seemed reminiscent of a child's board game.

Willy seemed completely unfazed by this and it stood to reason, he probably walked this path every single day. Either that, or he had become completely immune to the impact that his work left on those who were seeing it for the very first time.

Adam did not know at this point if that was such a good thing to have happen. He could not imagine working there and not being affected by the sheer wonder that was going on around him. This place is even more magical than 'Taffy Town', if that was at all possible, he mused as he stopped for what seemed to have been the seventh or eighth time.

Eventually, Willy stopped and turned around. "Is everything alright?" He asked. There was no impatience in his voice, in fact, Willy seemed to understand completely what was going through Adam's mind.

"Oh yes, everything's fine," Adam said, his voice emerging somewhat flustered.

Willy nodded as he offered a reassuring smile to his newest employee. "You will grow used to it, Mr. Engel, not to worry."

"You know what I was thinking?" He asked.

"Of course," Willy said as he tapped his fingers against the head of his cane. "I have interviewed hundreds of people, and close to ninety five percent of them have stopped between my office and their workplace in order to take it in. You are not the first, and hopefully won't be the last."

Adam did not comment on the other man saying 'hopefully'. Instead he gave the confectioner a slight smile. "It must seem unprofessional of me," he eventually mused.

"Then be unprofessional," Willy said smirking. "After all, 'The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed'."

Adam took a deep breath. "You are truly a remarkable person, Mr. Wonka."

"No great credit to me, those were Albert Einstein's words, not mine. I was just repeating them because they seemed applicable for the moment," he said, the smirk still lingering.

"Perhaps not, but to remember the poignancy of those words is rather remarkable," Adam said. "How many quotations do you know anyway?"

"Hundreds," Willy said. "Growing up, I was a great lover of books and literature. My grandfather had a great selection of books on the shelf in his library. Sometimes I would wake at the strangest hours of the night and pad my way down the stairs and find books by Chekhov, Keats, or Shakespeare. Not very many people know this, but I had read all of Shakespeare's plays by the time I was twelve-years-old."

"That's pretty remarkable," Adam said. "What is your favorite quotation?"

"Probably 'we are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams', from Arthur O'Shaughnessy's poem 'Ode'. There was just something completely tangible in those words," he said, but after several seconds, he started to walk again. "We should get to the Inventing Room, there are people waiting for me there."

The two men continued down the hallway, Willy's hand tapping lightly against the head of the cane. Adam was left to wonder what was going through the mind of the candy maker as there was indeed something quite amazing about him.

Instead of speaking, his eyes began to once more take in every last aspect of things as that they passed by several dozen doors and markers. A sign for 'Saltwater Taffy Falls' was outlined in the pastel colors and pointed in one direction, while a black licorice rope was in the form of a lasso. This encircled the words 'Licorice Roundup' and pointed in the opposite direction.

They continued to walk until Adam saw the bubbles drifting out into the hallway and a maker with, 'Fizzy Lifting Drink Room' outlined next to the large entryway. Unlike the other rooms that were separated by a hallway, he was able to peer into the room as they walked past it.

"We're almost there," Willy said. "Just a few more turns."

Adam nodded and as promised, they soon reached the door that led into the Inventing Room. On the door was a large Victorian like lock that seemed rather impossible to get inside of. He remembered the test that he had passed, and how Willy had said that this was the most secret room in the entire factory. He could understand that the moment he saw the lock that extended across one part of the door.

Instead of watching Willy, Adam attention was once more diverted to the various notices that surrounded the door. The first one that caught his eye read:

_Dairy Cream_

_Whipped Cream_

_Coffee Cream_

_Vanilla Cream_

_Hair Cream_

Hair cream? He pondered as his attention shifted and he began to read the sign over the door. It read: 'Authorized Admittance Only', but before he could so much as utter a sound, he watched as the chocolatier took a strangely shaped key and pressed it into his hand.

"You'll need a key to gain access to the 'Inventing Room' each day," he explained. "You have to put it into the lock in such a fashion that it will give way and open. If you don't, then the lock will reject it, and after two tries, I will have to reissue you a new key."

Before Adam could ask Willy about why this was the case, the confectioner had continued speaking, his voice filled with matter-of-fact undertones. "This is a special security measure because as I said in my office, this is the most secret room in the entire factory."

He really does have an issue with trust, Adam thought, but watched as Willy turned some knobs on the strange key and the door eventually gave way. Once they had entered the large gray colored room, Adam saw that only a small handful of people were actually present, most of them standing at the far end of the room and waiting.

Adam took in the group and realized that there were three men and four women present. Two of the men looked to be about the same age and were deep in dialogue. The third man, who looked to be somewhat younger, stood with a scowl on his face and his arms crossed impatiently over his chest. The four women were silently standing and waiting.

As they came in, one of the women excused herself from the group and started to walk over towards the two of them.

"Good morning, Mr. Wonka," she spoke, her voice a strange mixture between relief and concern. Adam wondered if this woman held any specific role in the chocolatier's life, because he turned and offered her a genuine smile.

"Why hello Gertrude, how are you feeling today?" He asked.

She nodded as though to indicate that she was alright, but there was something in her stance that indicated that something was wrong. Willy seemed to pick up on that immediately and his next words emerged.

"Is something the matter, dear lady?" He asked.

"Yes, there is, I just wanted to inform you that Clarence Bucket is not doing well at all," she said.

"Yes, I heard he was quite sick. I kept hoping that he would pull through," Willy said, his attention no longer on Adam, but instead on the elderly lady who appeared to be the speaker of the small group.

Instead of responding verbally, she nodded slowly in concurrence with his words, but her unhappy expression remained. "His wife, Clara, said that the pneumonia is getting worse," she reported.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. I recall you telling me that he had filed for sick leave, but I didn't know that things had gotten this badly for them," Willy said. Instead of focusing on his new employee, the chocolatier backed away from the group and started to walk away from them, his head lowered and his fingers brushing through his curly locks of hair.

Adam took a deep breath. Well, perhaps that explained how his and Andrew's assignments paralleled to one another. Of course, that did not change the fact that Willy's reaction seemed rather strange, especially since the candy maker was demonstrating how he cared for someone who had once worked in his employ.

"He takes everything to heart," Gertrude said, her voice bringing Adam out of his contemplations. "It's as though we are family."

Adam nodded. "I see, but those are the best kinds of employers to have. They mean well, and they try everything they can to help those who work for them."

"Yes," she said as she turned and walked away, leaving Adam torn. He wanted to go to his assignment, but he also realized that he wanted to get to know the other people in his group as well. Perhaps that would help to clarify what was about to happen to Willy Wonka that would change everything.

Instead of following Gertrude, Adam started to follow Willy over to the group of inventions that were along one of the walls. His stance looked somewhat tired, but Adam supposed that it was because he was worried about the condition of the man Andrew had gone to take home.

He inhaled slowly as he walked over to where the confectioner was now standing. He reached out and touched Willy's shoulder, the softness of the purple colored jacket stroking his fingertips.

Willy turned around and offered what could only be described as a forced and unnatural smile. "I'm fine, Mr. Engel."

"Would you mind calling me Adam?" He asked before he could stop himself. "I'm not really all that big a fan of formalities."

"I was merely following protocol," Willy said casually.

"I know, and believe me I understand how that is better than you might be thinking," Adam said freely.

"Something told me that you would," Willy said. "I figured that there was an element of casual energy about you, because you had worked at 'Taffy Town'."

"You know of 'Uncle Dudley'?" Adam asked.

Willy nodded. "I met him at a confectioner's convention several years ago. I was just getting started in the business, and he gave me some inspiring words and told me about the best way to make saltwater taffy. He was very kind and honest to me. It was never about competition, it was just about the candy. It was strange, yet comforting. Here I was in a place dominated by suits and cold businessmen. Then in walks this man in overalls and a merry smile. I suppose one doesn't see people like 'Uncle Dudley' in this industry very often, but when they do show up, somehow we're changed for the better." Willy said, his voice taking on an almost nostalgic essence.

"Yet you are following his inspiration and trying to create that very same atmosphere here," Adam said smiling. "You care more than most, you asked about Clarence Bucket as though you were a friend and not just an employer. People notice that you care."

"I try," Willy said, but instead of elaborating on this, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Sometimes it does become rather easy for me to forget."

Adam nodded. "That's when you have to hold all the more tightly to it."

Willy smiled, the gratitude evident in his eyes. "I appreciate your honesty." Instead of speaking further, he started to make his way back over to where the seven people were waiting for him. "Good morning everyone. I'd like to introduce Adam Engel to the group. He's going to be taking Clarence Bucket's place."

Adam offered a cordial smile as the names of his new colleagues filled his ears. Gertrude was the older woman that had informed Willy of Clarence Bucket's condition, and she was joined by Mary, Holly, and the youngest of the group, a girl named Felicity, who looked to be in her mid twenties and was staring at Willy as though he was a rock star. The two men who had been speaking when Adam and Willy had come in introduced themselves as Justin and Paul. Finally, the man who had been scowling, Gertrude said was named Jeremy, and she informed him quietly that he never talked to anyone.

Once he knew everyone's name, Gertrude showed him where he would be working that day. Of course, before finding their way over to his station, Adam glanced over in the direction of where Willy had been standing prior to having been introduced to the group.

He immediately noticed that the chocolatier had slipped quietly out of the room.


	6. Chapter 5: Secrets and Lies

_Hello and welcome to the latest installment of the story. This is turning into a very suspenseful kind of story and one that I hope you will continue to read, enjoy, and review. I had this idea come to me as I was contemplating this chapter. It went along the same lines of whether or not to go with the idea of taking the Wonka parts of the story and making them AU. I decided against it, so I had to come up with something that would somehow connect the characters in the later chapters. Since someone said that they liked the name Felicity, I thought 'eureka, that's it'. So, the idea was sort of born by that reviewer's comment. I think this idea is pretty good. The angels don't appear in it until the very end of the chapter, but I think it will tie into the overall motivation of the story as well as add a new dimension to it._

_Thanks to all my reviewers for the wonderful words of encouragement. I am enjoying my work on this and hope that everyone gets something out of the story. Ever since writing 'Just a Spoonful of Sugar', I have discovered that I am rather fond of suspense stories and am somehow making this have those same elements. This chapter does have a tiny element of violence, but it's nothing too extreme, but read with discretion._

_I hope that all of you continue to enjoy and thanks to Jenni-OnThisSide, Zarz, Victory-Starr, writerchic16, YaYa and Everto Tonsor for the reviews. I hope that you will all continue to enjoy the story. Sorry that there is not that much TBAA here in this chapter, but in the next chapter there will be. Promise. ;) Oh and forgive me Wonka fans for having Willy somewhat stern in parts of the chapter, it's that way for a reason, and besides he is responsible for running a business. :)_

_Enjoy!_

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 5: Secrets and Lies**

Once he had stepped out of the Inventing Room, Willy's head was literally spinning. He did not mention any of this to his workers, but instead, decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

For weeks now, it had been rumored that there were spies in the factory and they were intent on stealing his most prized and valued recipes and passing them onto his greatest competitor, Arthur Slugworth.

In the back of his mind, the chocolatier guessed that Jeremy Cooper was the main instigator in that regard. His bad attitude and withdrawn manner seemed perfect rationale for concern. In fact, there was something about younger man that made Willy want to keep him as far away from his latest invention as he could. After all; ice cream that did not melt was a pretty special sort of commodity, especially with the fast approaching summer.

Willy worked long and hard hours in the Inventing Room working on this invention, and it seemed rather obvious that Jeremy had taken a keen interest in it. On one occasion, he was caught sneaking glances over the confectioner's shoulder.

The chocolatier had said nothing of this incident, but he never forgot it. In fact, he was concerned about the other workers catching wind of it, as it would change the overall productivity of the factory. His other concern was Gertrude. During the past weeks, she seemed unusually distracted by Clarence Bucket's illness. Along those same lines, at her last company physical, it was revealed that she had unusually high blood pressure.

He remained outside of the Inventing Room for several moments, his fingers tracing along the cane he carried. The door soon opened and instead of Adam emerging, as he half anticipated, the youngest of the group, Felicity Jacobs did.

Willy had liked the young woman from the start, although she carried herself in a very nervous manner when he was around. On one occasion, Gertrude had sort of implied that the young woman liked him, but her manner still remained cloaked in mystery. She was a pretty girl, simple in her own way, her eyes were the color of almonds, but somehow they seemed to reflect a secret as her stance carried a cloud of sadness around. This seemed to permeate her entire essence, making her someone the chocolatier considered to be rather 'isolated' from the rest of the group.

"M-Mister Wonka, Sir," the young woman stammered, thus acknowledging him as she inched her way past him.

Willy turned, and seeing that she looked to be unstable on her feet, he immediately reached out and grasped her upper arm. Once she had managed to keep her footing, his hand lowered.

From looking at her, however, he began to ponder if she had been taking sips of the cherry liquor that he used for his chocolate cherry pralines. Of course he knew that she had a terrible stuttering problem, but at that moment she looked as though she was about to be contending with a massive emotional breakdown.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, trying to speak in a business-like manner, but instead it came across in the same concerned tone of voice that had used when inquiring about Clarence Bucket. He could tell that the young woman liked him, the way she looked at him when he was not addressing her was a dead giveaway to her overwhelming shyness. Of course, the secret that she refused to disclose was somehow weighing her down.

Felicity shook her head. "I-I…I w-wanted to s-see if y-you were a-alright," she managed to speak as her gaze met his.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked, but immediately regretted asking this question as she looked nervous enough and perhaps it would have been better if he had simply smiled and acknowledged that her words were merely an act of kindness. At that moment, he was simply not sure.

Felicity lowered her head and bit down on her lip.

Taking a deep breath, Willy reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. This action caused her to raise her head, if but only for an instant. She lowered it again, her eyes closing. "I d-didn't m-mean any…" her voice trailed.

"…It's alright, dear lady," he said with traces of acceptance in his voice. "Listen, you look as though you're about to pass out, let's go to the break room, and I'll get you a glass of water. Alright?"

She nodded and allowed him to lead her away from the Inventing Room door.

Several minutes later, they reached a small break room, and Willy opened the door and ushered her into the small room.

On one side of the wall was a vending machine where various candies and chips could be purchased. Next to it, a refrigerated machine with glass bottles of various brands of carbonated sodas. In the corner a refrigerator was humming away. On the door were various lists, one of which was a sign-in sheet for the clean up schedule for the room.

Willy, instead of hiring someone new to clean the room each day, requested that his employees divide up the responsibilities of keeping the room sanitary. That meant that at the end of each day, someone would sweep and wipe down the tables. Over a hundred employees worked and used this particular room, so they seemed more than willing to have kitchen duty to help their employer save on payroll.

At this point, Willy was not quite certain what to make of the young woman's behavior, but he was not about to dwell on it. Instead, he went over and retrieved two glasses and brought them over to the table as Felicity sat down.

"Do you like your water with or without gas?" He asked.

She smiled at his unique use of wording. Of course, she knew what he meant, the gas was, in fact, the carbonation that was present in some brands of bottled water. "Without," she whispered, but watched as he walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. Retrieving two small bottles, he brought them over to the table.

"Yours is without, mine is with," he said as he placed them on the table and seated himself across from her. Reaching for one of the bottles, he carefully opened it and began to pour the contents into his glass.

She followed his lead and once she had poured herself some water, she spoke. "T-thank you, Sir."

"Hopefully that will make you feel a little bit better. After all, I cannot have people passing out while they are supposed to be working," he said. After several moments, he inhaled slowly and released the breath. When she did not respond, he spoke her name. "Felicity?"

"Yes Sir," she answered meekly.

"Could you do me a favor?" He asked.

She nodded, but after a second, she spoke. "W-what?"

"Just try and relax, and please stop calling me 'Sir'," he said. "I'm not that much older than you. If memory serves, you're twenty-six, correct?"

"Yes Sir, I-I mean, y-yes," she stammered.

Despite the earnestness of her nervous stance, Willy began to chuckle and shake his head at the same instant. "You're really something else. There's something very real about you, but there's also that childlike manner in you that is rather appealing. Even your name gives off that essence."

She smiled weakly. "I l-like my name."

"Oh, I do too, but there exists that sense of perfection in such a name, and you don't display that at all," he said. "To be honest, in a way it is quite reassuring to know that you're nothing like your name indicates. Yet, there is something hidden in you."

Felicity looked away, her eyes closing somewhat, but instead of speaking, she backed further away from the table. "W-what do you w-want from me?" Fear was now written all over her face. Although she did not speak of it, Willy could tell precisely what she was implying.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his expression once more composed and businesslike. "I don't want anything from you. I'm just trying to help you relax. You're upset and contrary to what people may be saying about me, I am not trying anything except to talk to you. You are an employee here, and I am your boss, nothing more. You are under contract to work here and I would not expect anything from you except for you to do your job."

He got up and started to walk away from the table, his back now facing her.

"Mr. Wonka," she turned around, but her action came too quickly and her glass slid across the table and hit the floor. The object shattered against it and she unconsciously jumped.

Willy turned back around and upon hearing the crash, he released a pent up sigh. Maintaining this no-nonsense demeanor, he took a deep breath before making his way back over towards where she was seated. "If you cannot maintain control over your nerves, Felicity, then I will have no choice but to terminate your employment here. I don't want to do that, but if this had happened in the Inventing Room, then it might have been impossible for us to avoid a disaster." He took a deep breath and went over to retrieve a towel.

Bringing it over to her, he dropped it on the table in front of her. "There's a broom and dustpan in the side closet. Be careful cleaning up the mess, alright?"

Felicity nodded and watched as the chocolatier slowly left the room.

* * *

Once the candy maker was gone, the young woman took a deep breath as she flung the towel across the room. "Oh damn it all," she muttered, this time the stammering gone and her nervousness a thing of the past. Instead, the young woman looked angry instead of fearful.

Felicity Jacobs had known that she was in trouble the moment Jeremy Cooper had appeared at the Wonka factory. Somehow he had found her there and had done everything he could to make her life a living hell.

Hot tears burnt her eyes as she retrieved the towel and began to clean up the slivers of glass that were on the floor. "How could have I reacted to him like that?" She chastised herself. "How could I have accused him of having ulterior motives?" As she spoke, she could feel the unrelenting guilt wash over her. The words she had said to her employer somehow overrode everything else that had been happening in her life. Now she was on the verge of losing her job.

She needed this job, but every time she thought about a man getting close to her, she immediately remembered Richard.

Upon meeting him, Richard had somehow been the most perfect man. He had been polite and caring, but that had turned out to be a façade. Over time, he had become more and more possessive as well as physically abusive with her. He would leave overt bruises and signs of mistreatment on her skin, and it soon became very clear that she existed solely for his benefit.

If only that night had not happened and I had not been drinking, she thought with absolute remorse.

Her memory was so hazy that the events seemed like something straight out of a murder mystery. Of course, she did not wish to remember what had happened, she merely wanted to move on with her life and behave as though Richard never existed.

She had moved to this town in order to forget about her past, but now she could not. Richard's older brother had shown up at Willy Wonka's factory in January and for the last three months her life had somehow become shrouded in confrontations, lies, and deceit.

She closed her eyes as she remembered the gentle touch that Willy had exerted on her shoulder just ten minutes ago. His voice had been laced with kindness, as it always seemed to be when he would address his employees.

Yet, somehow, she knew internally that she had to do whatever she could to keep herself from falling for the famous confectioner. During the past weeks and months, she tried to rationalize everything she felt through logic. Yet, there was no mistaking how Willy made her feel. Of course, the underlying truth was that he was her boss and she had a terrible crush on him.

At this point, she did not know how much of the stammering and stuttering was real and how much was play acting. In some cases, Willy had that very same impact on her. His comment about their ages, instead of making her feel as though there was a rational explanation for what had happened, only sent her catapulting into an emotional abyss.

Felicity was so lost in thought that she did not hear the door opening and someone coming into the break room and speaking.

"You could have won an Oscar with that performance." A daunting sounding voice suddenly emerged, thus bringing her out of her reverie.

Abruptly, she turned her attention away from the pieces of glass that were now spread out across the floor of the break room and looked up at the man who had joined her.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded.

Jeremy offered a coy smirk, his arm still resting against the door frame. His taller frame, even from that distance felt as though it was looming over her and she took a deep breath and watched as he ran his hand through his dark brown hair and regarded her through sadistic green eyes. "You know perfectly well what I'm doing here," he said, the sadistic smirk never leaving his face. Instead he casually closed the door and turned the key so that no one would interrupt their dialogue.

Felicity cringed upon seeing this, but somehow she knew precisely what he wanted and it was clear that the young woman was completely terrified at the prospect of being alone in a locked room with him. Her expression hardened although she felt the panic curse through her.

"Where's your stutter?" He asked mockingly as he crossed the room to where she was on the floor, still cleaning up the floor.

"What's it to you?" She shot back, all the while trying to sound braver than she actually felt.

Jeremy crouched down to where she was, his eyes bearing down into hers. "Need I remind you that you are in my control? You owe me, Felicity, I'm the one who is keeping you out of jail. Remember, if it weren't for me, you'd be rotting there because of Richard." A contemptuous smile curved up his lips as he leered down at her.

"That was an accident," she whispered. "You know it was."

"How do I know, Sweet Thing?" He asked mockingly. "You don't remember anything that happened that night. The only thing you remember is what I told you, because I remember, and I could put you away for murdering my brother in cold blood, or have you forgotten? He was only trying to look out for you, sweetie, and you killed him."

"I didn't mean to," her broken sounding voice filled the room.

"Sure, I'm almost certain that a judge would be more than happy to reduce your sentence from life, to say, ninety years." As he spoke, the mocking smile never left his face. Instead his eyes bore down on hers with absolute contempt. "You know what you have to do to keep yourself out of trouble, don't you, darling?"

"I can't betray Mr. Wonka," she whispered. "I won't do it."

Jeremy, instead of speaking raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. "You will do it," he sneered, but watched as she cowered away from him. "I've already made contact with Slugworth, and if you don't help me, then who knows what could happen? I might just decide to do away with you myself and make it look like an accident."

"What do I have to do?" She whispered, her voice cracking.

He reached over and captured her face in his stronger hands and roughly forced her to look at him. "Seduce him, make him give you what we want."

"I can't," she whimpered as she tried to pull herself out of his hold.

"You can't or you won't. Listen to me, sweetheart, you have far more to lose than I do, and I swear if you betray me, I'll destroy you."

He pushed her away. "Now, I suggest that you get busy, and clean up this mess. I'm almost sure Mr. Wonka will not take kindly to your lackadaisical work ethic." As he spoke, he released a sadistic laugh before going over to the door, turning the lock, and leaving the room.

What neither of the humans noticed was that Sam was standing in the room in angelic form and he had witnessed the entire confrontation.


	7. Chapter 6: Another Meeting

_Thanks to my reviewers for keeping me posted on how this is shaping up. I appreciate your kind words and support._

_For those 'Willy Wonka' fans who are not familiar with the TBAA universe, I think I should explain to you what God's Country is. Based on my own interpretation of the show, God's Country is a place between heaven and earth where angels sometimes get the chance to talk to their assignments about important issues or circumstances. This is strictly a TBAA tool, but to me, I sort of view it as an alternate consciousness. The point is, I wish to keep things as clear as possible, and there are certain things in one universe that need clarity, then just ask._

_I know that in the 2005 film, Charlie's dad was employed at the toothpaste factory, but I decided to completely take those elements out of the story. I also decided to take a creative liberty and have him be employed at the factory. That way, everything will tie together and I don't have Willy and Charlie cross paths until much later._

_Enjoy the latest update and many thanks again for the continued support. YaYa, the problem was found and corrected, thanks for catching it._

_Edited January 14, 2009._

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**Chapter 6: Another Meeting**

Sam was worried. Actually, he was more than worried, the concern he carried for the young twenty-six-year-old woman could not be appeased no matter what he did.

He remained where he had appeared in the break room and watched as Felicity stood up and started to make her way out of the room. She seemed to be trembling all over and he could tell that she was literally willing herself not to cry. There was absolutely no telling what was going through her mind, as she looked positively terrified. From what he had witnessed, her terror was for good reason.

Yet something told him that the young woman's memory was similar to what people experience after an unspeakable trauma. How much help had she had after Richard's death? It seemed to the angel that she had very little support, and now he pondered what he could do that might help her.

Sighing, he waited until she was gone before disappearing. Seconds later, he reappeared back in front of the Bucket family home.

Sam knew that Andrew would be there, as the young Angel of Death had been assigned to take care of Clarence Bucket. He wondered why it was the Father was telling him that he should immediately find and speak with Andrew. At that moment, he was not quite certain if he should leave Felicity Jacobs alone at all.

He took a deep breath, and entered the house in the angelic way, that is no human being could see him. Crossing the room he could see that Andrew was seated next to the bed, his gaze concentrated on Clarence's still form. Wordlessly, he reached out and rested his hand on the shoulder of the younger angel.

"Hello Andrew," he spoke, his words soft.

Andrew immediately turned around and raised his head. Wordlessly, he took in the outer appearance of the older angel and it suddenly became clear to him that Sam was worried.

In fact, in all the centuries that the Angel of Death had known Sam, he had never seen the elder angel in such a state. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and embraced his former supervisor.

Releasing his hold, the Angel of Death inhaled slowly and spoke, his words a soft murmur. "Not much longer now, perhaps later today or tomorrow."

Sam nodded. "We need to talk Andrew." He cast a glance over towards Clarence. "Perhaps it would be wise if he were to come with us, as this involves the place where he used to work. He might actually have some insight that might assist us in contending with this current situation."

Andrew nodded and leaning down, he gently brushed his hand against the gaunt cheek of the man. Seconds later, their surroundings abruptly changed and they found themselves in God's Country.

Clarence was, in this place, aware and alert as to everything that was going on around him. His eyes began to take in the place, a small smile curving up his lips. "What is this place, Andrew? It's beautiful."

"It's called God's Country, Clarence, and this is Sam, he's another angel and he said he needs to talk to us about something rather important," Andrew quickly explained.

"Nice to meet you Sam," Clarence said as he made himself comfortable on the ground and stretched his legs out in front of him. A gentle smile lined his face, but his eyes seemed to be taking in everything around them.

Sam looked at the man and offered a reciprocating nod. "Clarence, the reason you are here is because I need to ask you both some very important questions."

"Alright," the younger man said. "I'll help in any way I can."

Sam nodded. "How well do you know a young lady named Felicity Jacobs?"

Clarence thought for several moments and then nodded. "After she started working at the factory, I got to know her pretty well. She was a likable sort of girl, very smart and someone who would not shy away from asking questions. She wanted to learn, had that edge to her character and that seemed to impress Mr. Wonka. After several months passed, we noticed a change in her manner and from what I understand, she is as fragile and breakable as a tea cup."

"Anything else?" Sam asked.

"Well, it may not prove all that helpful, but over time it seemed to a lot of us that she sort of developed a slight crush on Willy Wonka. I am not quite certain if that makes any difference, but it was noticeable. Why do you ask?"

"She's in some sort of trouble, Clarence," Sam affirmed. "I've been asked to take her case."

"I thought you were just supervising this case, Sam," Andrew said before the older angel could continue speaking.

"Things change, Andrew. Tess is going to be taking the supervising role while I try and work with Felicity," he said. "I'm going to be working as superintendent at her apartment building and I figure that maybe I can get her to open up and talk about an event that she has forgotten."

"What could that be, Sam?" Andrew asked.

"There was an event in her past that she has completely shut out, and there is a young man at your workplace who seems to believe that he knows more about it than she does," he said solemnly.

"Let me guess, that young man is Jeremy Cooper," Clarence said. When Sam nodded, he continued speaking. "I noticed that she started to behave differently around him. Remember when I said that she had changed? Well, Jeremy was the catalyst of that change."

"What can we do, Sam?" Andrew asked.

"Well, for starters, I need you to really think back, Andrew, and tell me if you know which Angel of Death took Richard Cooper Home," Sam said. "I don't know how recent it was, but I need to know that information as soon as possible. I have to find out the specifics about his death."

"Well, look no further, Sam, I was the angel who did," Andrew said with an casual shrug of his shoulders.

"Do you remember how his death came about?" He asked.

Andrew grew silent, but after several moments, a shadow crossed his face as he tried to remember the more specific details of that particular case. "I remember what happened, Sam, but I'm not sure I should mention them, they are quite disturbing."

"Perhaps it might help Andrew if you were to tell us more specific information about Jeremy," Sam said as he looked at Clarence. "Any information you could provide would be most helpful."

The young man nodded. "I can tell you that he's a bully, the epitome of a chauvinistic jerk. No one in the group likes him, his mood swings are generally bad, and if you ask me, the group was a lot better off without him."

"How did he get the job then?" Sam asked. "I would think that Willy Wonka is very selective about the people he hires. If anything, he seems a very conscientious sort of individual."

"Oh he is, very much so," Clarence objected as he held up his hands in negation. "But from what I hear, Jeremy is one heck of an actor. He acted and behaved in a manner that would make Mr. Wonka want to hire him straightaway. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Wonka is anything but naïve, but once the contract was signed, then the die was pretty much cast."

"That still seems rather strange to me," Andrew mused.

"I know what you mean," Clarence said with a slow nod of his head. "What I can tell you is that I was in charge of the Inventing Room team at the factory for a number of years, and this guy comes in and tries to take over. He plays off that he running the show, but it soon causes problems and a number of us complained to Mr. Wonka. At any rate, I come in one day and overheard my boss telling Jeremy that under no uncertain terms would he be permitted to continue with this unproductive behavior. He said that I was in charge of the group, and I imagine that when I left, that power immediately was shifted to Gertrude Hendrix. She's been there about as long as I have and she knows how Mr. Wonka likes things to be done. In my opinion, she seemed the most perfect choice."

"How did Jeremy react when she got the position instead of him?" Andrew asked.

"Well, she stopped in yesterday, and she told Clara that Jeremy was really upset about it. He didn't seem to believe in seniority ruling, and she said that he was literally climbing the walls about having a woman telling him what to do. What bothers me is that I hear that he started taking out his anger on the youngest member of our team," Clarence said sadly.

"Felicity," Sam said with a nod of his head.

"Yes, but this has been going on for quite some time now, not just because of Gertrude being in charge," Clarence explained. "From what I understand, several weeks ago, Gertrude said that she found Felicity crying in the women's wash room. When she asked what was the matter, the girl said that she was having some family issues which justified her being a nervous wreck. The truth is, she was never like that before and I am worried about her. I remember when she started working at the factory, she carried herself very professionally; she was smart, intuitive and very much a take charge kind of person. So you can imagine that based on what Gertrude said, she's changed rather drastically and is behaving like a stranger. I wish there was something I could do that might help her, but I don't know what, and Andrew's pretty much put down the hammer that I'm dying and cannot go back to the factory. I would like nothing more than to go back there and tell Mr. Wonka what I know. The worst thing is I can't even confront that jerk and tell him to leave that poor girl alone."

"Would you say that it is possible that Jeremy and Felicity might had known each other before they started working at the factory?" Andrew asked.

"Well, based on what I overheard just now, they do know each other rather well," Sam said. "This acquaintanceship is not such a good thing. I believe that the girl is in mortal danger. Jeremy is using Richard's death as a means to oppress her, and she doesn't remember anything that happened the night that Richard died. That's why I asked you what you knew, Andrew. If we have the truth in our court, then perhaps I can get through to Felicity."

"So basically, what you're saying that Felicity believes that she has Richard's death on her conscience, correct?" Andrew asked.

Sam nodded as Clarence interjected. "That girl would not hurt a fly and even if she did change, I cannot see her hurting anyone unless it was done in self-defense."

Andrew offered a slow nod as he found the courage to speak, his gaze still on Sam. "The night that Richard died, Felicity was half out of her mind, but she had a very good reason to be. Both Richard and Jeremy as well as one of their buddies had contemplated doing something rather horrific to her. What I could recall was that they were hanging out at this bar on the outskirts of Huntington Way. I won't go into details, but I will tell you that Jeremy had spiked her drink with some sort of drug, which induces memory loss. It was for this reason that Felicity cannot remember what happened that night."

"So let me get this straight," Sam began, the anger finding its way to his voice. "Anything that Jeremy says about what happened, Felicity is going to automatically believe to be the truth."

Andrew nodded. "That pretty much sums it up."

"Is there a way to make her remember what happened?" Clarence asked.

"No, for whatever reason, she cannot or will not remember. Even if she did, she's basically convinced herself that the truth is nothing more than a drug-induced hallucination. The point is, no one should expect her to relive what happened that night. Believing that Jeremy holds the keys to her future has pretty much convinced Felicity that this would be the only way to keep her out of jail," Sam said. "He's seriously got that poor girl running scared. She needs help, and it's going to be up to us to make sure she gets it."

Clarence looked at Andrew. "My wife would help you, you can go to her after I'm gone and tell her everything that we've talked about here. She'll understand, I know she will. She's always been supportive of those who are less fortunate, and Felicity seems to be the most unfortunate of the lot."

"Perhaps," Sam said. "But, I think the one person who will make a difference to her is Willy Wonka, but somehow that would be overstepping our boundaries and getting directly involved in Adam's case."

"Then someone should tell Adam," Clarence said. "Let him know what is going on, and perhaps he can talk to Mr. Wonka. Maybe he can and let him know what specifically is going on."

Sam shook his head. "Adam can't do that. If Willy Wonka finds out about this situation, there's a huge chance that he will automatically assume that Felicity is responsible for it and will react accordingly. Her emotional state still comes into question, and for good reason. The point is, if Adam goes in and tells Willy what happened the night Richard Cooper was killed, then this could very easily cause the future events in Willy's life to fall apart completely." He took a deep breath. "Jeremy's played his cards very well in this case, and all we can do now is try and get Felicity to tell Willy about what specifically happened and how much trouble she's in. If we can convince her that it would be safe for her to confide in Willy, then perhaps we can get Jeremy out of the picture before he gets his hands on Willy's work. If not, then Willy stands to lose far more than just a recipe, he stands to lose a part of himself."

Clarence took a deep breath. "But, what if we fail?"

"Willy's going to believe what he will, and Felicity's well being is what will hang in the balance," Sam said, but looked at Andrew. "I think that it is abundantly clear, Andrew, you will have to stay on even after Clarence goes home."

Andrew nodded as he looked at his assignment with a shrug of his shoulders. "I had a sneaking suspicion you were going to say that, Sam."

The elder of the angels nodded, but despite the seriousness of the situation, he chuckled. "He knows me well."

Clarence nodded as Andrew reached over and touched his arm. "It's time to go back," the angel said softly as they returned abruptly to the house.

Andrew took a deep breath and resumed watching over his assignment, as Sam disappeared. Once he was gone, the dark blond headed angel sighed sadly.

He watched from across the room as the man named Joe reached for the newspaper he had cast off when the lights had gone out the night before. George fumbled around for his glasses, while Josephine reached for her knitting needles and ball of green colored yarn. Another day had started for the family, but without thinking about what he was doing, the angel's gaze suddenly shifted to Clara Bucket.

Clarence had told him that she was a good woman and that she would do what she could to help Felicity, but the petite blonde headed woman seemed to have more on her plate than the meager loaf of bread that she now slicing up for breakfast.

He wondered what she would be able to do to help matters. He did not want to put her in any sort of danger, but somehow he feared that she would be contending with just that.

The room remained consumed in silence. No one even offered up the words 'good morning'. Instead they went about their morning rituals before the youngest family member would be crawling his way out of bed.

Andrew remained where he was, all the while wondering how it was he would present himself to her once Clarence had died.


	8. Chapter 7: Effective Associations

_I hope sincerely that you will continue to enjoy the story as it continues, and it means the world to me that you are reading and reviewing it. I hope that you continue to enjoy._

_Thanks for all the comments. _

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 7: Effective Associations**

Upon leaving the break room, Willy returned to the Inventing Room as opposed to retreating back to his office. His eyes were somewhat clouded over as he walked, in fact, he barely noticed that Jeremy Cooper was coming towards him in the opposite direction.

It was only after the man had wordlessly passed and rounded the corner, that he realized that his employee was carrying himself like a man on a mission. The chocolatier turned around and watched his retreating back until he was gone.

Willy filed the thought in his mind and continued down his intended path.

Arriving at his destination, the famous confectioner slowly unlocked and entered the room. As the door closed behind him, he could see the workers were busy at their stations. At least they are not so easily distracted as I have been lately, he thought as his attention shifted to the newest arrival.

Adam was presently deep in conversation with Gertrude, who was pointing out the various aspects of the room to him. It seemed as though the newly appointed leader of the group of workers was doing her very best at trying to educate the angel about the work they did there.

Pushing a lock of hair behind his ear, Willy approached the two of them, his gaze now on Adam. "How is everything going? Are you settling in alright, Adam?"

"Yes, very well, thank you. From what Gertrude has been telling me as well as what I have seen, your factory is truly an amazing place, Mr. Wonka," the angel said with appreciation laced in his words.

"I do what I can," he said, his voice emerging with strange traces of conceit.

This seemed almost out of character from what Adam knew or had been told of his assignment. Unconsciously, he arched an eyebrow.

Instead of speaking of his observations, the Angel of Death turned Caseworker was left to conclude that Willy perhaps had every reason in the world to be conceited. After all, Sam and Tess had even told him that Willy's work was of the utmost importance, and that the angel should try and help his assignment protect it. Yet, there was something in the pit of his stomach that conveyed that Willy's manner and words were somehow nothing more than a cleverly hidden façade.

What was this man really like? Was part of his assignment unlocking the door to reveal the true nature of Willy Wonka? Or was all of this embodied in the man's remarkable work?

Instead of speaking of any of this, Adam remained quiet as the next words emerged from Gertrude. "Mr. Wonka, you didn't, by any chance, see Felicity, did you?"

Willy took a deep breath. "Yes, I saw her." His words emerged somewhat simply, the overconfidence that had been in his words several moments ago, was now gone, and his blue eyes looked away from them. He removed his hat and with the object in one of his hands, he ran his other through the mass of curly blond hair.

There was something in his blue eyes that seemed to give away an element of being hurt that did not completely get past Adam. Was Willy attracted to the young woman? Or was it just his imagination playing tricks on him again?

Whatever the case, Adam could clearly see that there was something going on with his assignment. It did not take a trained psychologist to ascertain that he had seen and spoken with her after she had left the Inventing Room.

"She's been gone for quite a long time," Gertrude whispered.

"I'm sure she'll be back soon," Willy said unconvincingly. "We were in the break room talking just before I returned here. She's probably still in there finishing her water."

"No, it's something else," the woman confided. "She seemed so nervous, but at the same time, insecure and terribly guarded."

"Maybe you should talk to her again," Adam suggested, his gaze now on Willy.

I already tried and ended up nearly firing her, Willy thought with unhidden shame as he looked at the angel. "I probably shouldn't get involved," he mumbled more to himself than to them.

"But you are involved, you are her boss, and whatever's going on with her does affect her work here, Mr. Wonka," Gertrude pressed. "I can tell you're worried about her, we all are. Even Clarence Bucket was worried about her. Before he left, he made me promise to keep an eye on her."

"Why would he do that?" Adam asked.

"Because he could see that something was wrong with her before he had to leave," she paused before her next question emerged. "Can I be honest, Mr. Wonka?"

"I would hope that you would always be honest, Gertrude," he said.

"That girl's in some kind of trouble and the fact that Jeremy has somehow taken an overt interest in her gives me the creeps," she said. "He's fooled everyone here into thinking he is some kind of genius, but if you ask me, I think he's a _spy_." Her last word emerged as though she had eaten something that tasted terribly. The single word was laced with disdain.

"Preposterous;" Willy muttered.

At that moment, it became clear to both Adam and Gertrude that the chocolatier did not want to think that he had hired someone with less than perfect morals. That would have been remotely like shooting oneself in the foot, and Willy Wonka was not the sort of person who did such idiotic things.

Before he could so much as spit out those words, Gertrude reached over and rested a motherly hand on his shoulder.

"No, Mr. Wonka, it's not preposterous," she said softly. "He's after something, I can feel it in my bones."

"Maybe your bones are inaccurate," Willy said, his words indicative that he was seriously grasping at straws.

"Or maybe you're not seeing the truth about his character because you don't want to," she argued. "It's not a fallacy on your part, but there's no question in my mind that he doesn't belong here." She paused, and after several moments continued speaking, her words now soft. "Mr. Wonka, I know that you are the world's greatest employer, everyone here loves working for you. Yet, many of us also know there is something in this particular equation that is not adding up, and I can't for the life of me figure out what that is."

Adam nodded. "I can't help but agree with Gertrude about that. How long has Felicity been away from the Inventing Room anyway? And how much time has passed since you spoke with her, Mr. Wonka?"

"About twenty minutes," Willy said.

"And when did Jeremy leave?" Adam asked.

"He was heading in the direction of the break room while I was on my way here," Willy said honestly.

Gertrude looked at him, but instead of speaking, she abruptly rushed away from them. They watched as she headed towards the door that would lead out into the hallway.

As she disappeared out into the foyer, Willy looked at Adam. "It would seem that you have been thrown head-first into the working dramas of the factory," he mused. "This is not conducive for making candy, you realize."

"Perhaps it is not, but there is something seriously wrong with all of this," Adam pointed out. "Mr. Wonka, maybe you can step in and do something that might help matters."

"What can I do?" Wily asked.

"Well, for one, it probably won't hurt for you to try and talk to Felicity again. Try and get her to tell you what's going on," he said.

"How can I? Willy asked pointedly. "Adam, I'm her boss, I can't get involved in her personal affairs, it would be far too presumptuous and forceful for me to even try."

"Then be 'presumptuous' and 'forceful'," Adam began. "If Clarence Bucket was worried about her as Gertrude just implied, then there must be some sort of rationale for her to have left like she did. I mean; you tell me, what sort of person is Clarence anyway?"

"As far as workers go, he was quite good. He did lead the team before having to leave. He was interested in everyone in here and strived to be a good friend to all of them," Willy said. "The truth is, he's always been a lot better with people than I am."

"Maybe not," Adam said as he took a deep breath. "If Jeremy was heading towards the break room, then he no doubt intercepted Felicity after her dialogue with you. Do you see the connection with all of this? It seems to me that young lady needs a friend, especially if she is being tormented by Jeremy Cooper."

Willy took a deep breath. "Maybe, but I still think it would be best if someone else were to try and speak to her. It was pointedly clear that when I tried, I couldn't even say the right things to her."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked.

Willy related the events that happened in the break room, finishing with his threat to fire her. "I would never do that to her, but I thought that maybe it would snap her out of it. Help her to get beyond all of that. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, it's something like 'tough love'," Adam said, his thoughts immediately shifting to Tess. Perhaps that was the best way to describe the Supervisor's behavior towards him. She had always been stern and demanding, but maybe that as her way of showing that she cared. Maybe I had been misreading her all along, he thought.

His attention shifted back to Willy as he waited for the chocolatier's response.

"Perhaps it is something like that, I mean; it's obvious that Felicity has changed. Her work has not improved or gotten better, instead she's simply without the energy that she had before. She used to be so enthusiastic, but ever since the first part of February, I've noticed that others on the team have been trying to take up the slack for her mistakes."

"Yet you care for her and don't want to let her go, right?" Adam asked.

Willy nodded. "She's the youngest member of this team, and perhaps her age is part of the reason I feel somewhat protective of her. But, Adam, she's changed, and I can't pin down why."

"Perhaps what you ought to try and do is figure out not only the rationale for change, but also what catalyzed it," Adam said. "You know, something I learned from Uncle Dudley was that being in high spirits and feeling good helped make the candy that we produced wonderful. Maybe one of the things you need to do is help Felicity get her morale up and then the work she does will be a bit better. With that, there won't be any need for 'tough love' or even idle threats."

Willy sighed, but looked at Adam. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

Adam rested his hand on the shoulder of the confectioner. "Tell her that."

Eventually, the younger of the two nodded and after several seconds, he looked at Adam. "Would you send her to my office when she returns from the break room?"

"Of course," Adam said smiling.

"I'll stop by there before I go to my office just in case. Perhaps I can intercept her before she comes back here," Willy said.

Adam nodded before returning to the machine where he had been assigned and started to wait for either Gertrude or Felicity to return.

* * *

At the same time Sam was speaking with Andrew and Clarence about Felicity, the young woman had slowly made it back to the safety of the Inventing Room. Fumbling with her key, she managed to enter without messing up the lock on the door.

Willy Wonka's security measures were top of the line, there was no denying that, but if she screwed up her key, then there would be even more trouble for her to contend with. Having Willy Wonka scold her about water was more than enough humiliation for one day.

Managing to unlock the door, she slowly walked into the large gray colored room. It was strange that Willy had taken so many precautions to keep this particular room safe, but somehow she could understand why he did it.

To the young woman, it looked more or less like walking through a witch's kitchen. Caldrons and machines seemed to fill it, their contents bubbling and brewing away. As she made her way through the room, the sweet smell of chocolate mixed with fruit juices and peppermint abruptly filled her nostrils.

Along one corner, a pink colored wheel was turning. In front of that, a large silver tub, in the shape of a bathtub, was filled with some thick sticky syrupy substance. It looked rather like molasses, but seemed to have the same chocolaty essence as the rest of the factory. Next to that, a group of machines were running, the sounds they emanated similar to what would happen if someone blew air over the top of a soda bottle. Adam was in that corner staring at the walls of the strangely decorated room when she came inside.

Making her way to the other side, Felicity reached one of the tables, which was stacked high with large flasks, test tubes, and other objects. The room always seemed to remind her of the chemistry lab from her secondary school as opposed to being a part of the biggest candy factory in the world.

As soon as she reached her station, she sat down on the chair and reached for a pair of latex gloves. Casually, she pulled them over her hands before reaching over and beginning to press the buttons on her machine. This, she could have operated while blindfolded.

After several moments, it started running, thus leaving her with nothing to do except monitor that it was running alright and that the mixtures were not getting the gears clogged up. As it purred along, she turned briefly away to see that Adam was making his way across the room in her direction.

Stay calm, she started willing herself, but it seemed rather clear that she was a nervous breakdown ready to happen. From across the room, she could see that Jeremy was back inside and was now casting hate-filled glances in her direction.

Instead of approaching her, Jeremy simply stared at her. This left her trying to look away, but still casting uneasy glances in his direction. Trying her hardest to ignore, she did not notice that Adam had reached her side. She nearly jumped out of her skin when his warm baritone voice filled her ears.

"Hi. You're Felicity, right?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, but I'm still trying to learn everyone's name here," he explained.

The woman nodded, but offered a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"Mr. Wonka was just in here and he was asking about you," he said. "He asked me to send you to his office when you got back.

"Why?" She asked weakly.

"I can't really say," Adam offered. "I can only surmise that from the way he was carrying himself, he looked sort of troubled, but said that he needed to speak with you about something."

Felicity remembered the conversation in the break room, and how he had reacted to her breaking the glass and spilling the water. The confectioner's words had not been very kind, yet, she could understand why he had grown concerned by her clumsiness.

The work in the Inventing Room demanded a steady hand, and no frazzled nerves, neither of which she had a firm handle on at that precise moment. She was certain that Willy Wonka was well aware of the mistakes she had made in the past, and he was now intent on coming down on her. "Alright," she whispered. "Thank you for letting me know."

"My pleasure," he said. "Do you know the way? I mean; this factory's really big. I figure it will take me months, maybe years, to find my way around."

She nodded slowly. "I'll be fine."

With her gaze still on the floor, she somehow managed to stop the machine, pull off the gloves, and lay them on the chair she had occupied. After several seconds had passed, she started to make her way in the direction of the door that led outside.

This left Adam to ponder something that Sam had once told him about the tribulations of evil doers. It was clear that Jeremy was about as close to stepping across those particular boundaries as any human being could be.

Of course, the angel was perfectly aware that his intuition gave him absolutely no reason in the world to pass judgment on the younger man. Yet, there was something not right about the situation, and he was starting to wonder if someone, either Tess or Sam, were ever going to come around in order to tell him what specifically was happening and why.

There was no denying that he had been an angel long enough to know that part of Willy Wonka's problem was standing right there in his very own Inventing Room. Yet, it seemed a pity that the confectioner was deeply rooted in denial about it.

Instead of dwelling on the troubles that now consumed his mind, Adam returned to his post and began to work. Every so often, he could not help but cast uneasy glances in the direction of the hostile looking man in the neighboring station.


	9. Chapter 8: An Overdue Dialogue

_Hello and welcome to the latest chapter of this story. I hope that you are enjoying where this is going. I am blown away by the number of people reading and reviewing this particular story. I wasn't really sure if people were interested in stories that were Adam or Andrewcentric or even Wonkacentric, but am glad that there are those reading who are._

_Thanks go out to my reviewers for their wonderful words of encouragement. Specifically to Jenni OnThisSide, Victory-Starr, YaYa, and Onlyaman who have been supporting each installment of this. You guys are so totally awesome that I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to you for your support. _

_I hope that you will continue to enjoy the story. Now, without any further ado, I give you the dialogue you have been waiting for. Enjoy, with my sincerest thanks!_

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 8: An Overdue Dialogue**

At that precise moment, Willy was seated at the desk in his office, his left elbow braced up against it and a pen in his right hand. "Let's see," he mumbled under his breath as the tip of his pen scratched against the surface of the paper. "Twenty-eight days divided by four weeks plus thirteen varieties of chocolate…"

At that moment, someone knocked and he raised his head from his work.

He placed the pen on his desk before getting to his feet and walking the length of the room in order to open the door.

Standing somewhat nervously on the other side was Felicity. Her head was lowered and her hands nervously clasped in front of her body. If he did not know any better, the young woman looked as though she was about to jump completely out of her skin.

Willy offered a slight smile, but backed away from the, now opened, door.

"I take it you got my message," he began.

In lieu of a response, she offered a slight shrug of her shoulders before lowering her head and not daring herself to even make eye-contact.

"Please, come in," he said as he backed a couple of steps away from the door.

Slowly, she entered the office. She had been in there several times since starting working there, and each time she came into the strangely decorated room, there was an eerie sort of familiarity about the place. At the same instant, she could not deny the warmth and compassion that seemed to emanate it. It was rare for her to make such comparisons about her boss' office, all the while considering how she still felt intimidated by him.

Moments of silence passed as she tried to overtly conceal her nervousness. Eventually, she swallowed and managed to find her voice. "That new guy…said you…wanted…to see…me."

"You mean Adam?" He asked.

"Yes," she responded as she came completely into the office and Willy closed the door behind her before making his way back over towards the desk.

Stopping in front of it, he turned around and regarded her through concerned blue eyes. "After we spoke, I went back to the Inventing Room to find you. The other members of the group said that you had not gotten back yet."

"W-why d-did you want to find me?" She asked as she continued to wring her hands together. Keeping her composure in check was somehow proving quite difficult.

"Would you care to sit down?" He asked.

She nodded and watched as he retrieved the same stool that he had offered to Adam when he had interviewed him earlier that same day. Once she was seated he touched his lip with his index finger and tried to find the words he wanted to say.

Eventually, he lowered his hand as he turned and looked at her. "Felicity, what I said to you in the break room was wrong," he began.

She raised her head, all the while barely able to believe that he would admit to having made a mistake. To her way of thinking Willy Wonka was perfect and could do no wrong. Wordlessly, she waited for him to continue speaking.

"Have you ever heard of a concept called 'tough love'?" He asked.

She shook her head. "N-no, never. What is it?"

"Well, from what I've been able to understand, it's this new-fangled psychology concept. Basically, it is a way for people to help other people sort of snap out of certain behavioral patterns. You know, get them to start acting like themselves again."

"W-why are you…telling me this?" She managed to ask.

"Well," he began. "That was what I was trying to do when we spoke earlier. Somehow I realize that I have failed miserably at it, but that was my intention." He paused but took a deep breath. "I don't want you to be afraid that you're going to lose your job, because you're not." A quirky smile suddenly touched his lips. "At least not for something silly like overturning a glass of water."

"Why did you say it then?" She asked wearily.

"In all honesty, I'm not really sure," he said. "I know that what I said was wrong. That was why I wanted to talk to you, so that I could apologize."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's…no big deal," she whispered.

"It is a big deal and I'm still trying to figure out what compelled me to say such a thing to you," he said. "I suppose I was a little bit hurt by the accusations you threw at me just before the water got spilled."

Felicity took a deep breath and looked at him. "Accusation?" she offered meekly.

"Yes, when you said that I had other motives." He took a deep breath. "I tried to assure you that I wasn't meaning anything by it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka, I've just been feeling out of sorts lately," she managed to speak, her voice laced in overt exhaustion.

"That's pretty much an understatement. I mean; there's no denying that something has happened that has made you unbelievably nervous and afraid. You've been on edge for the last two months, and you look terrified of everyone and everything. Felicity, it is quite noticeable what has been going on. In essence, I would have been a fool to not have noticed it."

"Y-you're not a fool, Mr. Wonka," she whispered.

"I would most certainly hope not, but I realize that this is not just about a glass of water. You've changed so much since the day you started working here." He leaned over and looked at her, his blue eyes staring intently down at her. "Felicity." He spoke her name, thus causing her to raise her head and look at him. "It concerns me. Just tell me if there is anything I can do that might help."

_Fire Jeremy Cooper_, she wanted to scream out at the top of her lungs, but fear and trepidation kept those words at bay.

Instead, she merely offered a helpless shake of her head. "No, Mr. Wonka, there's nothing you can do."

In response to these words, the chocolatier arched an eyebrow, but looked at her, all the while trying to calculate something.

When he did not speak, she eventually did. "W-what?"

"You didn't stutter just now. We've been speaking for the last five or so minutes and you did not stammer about even once. In fact, it almost sounded strange for me to hear you talking normally," he said.

"I-I didn't notice," she whispered.

"Oh I most certainly did," he said. "I was going to suggest a language tutorial that might help, but you obviously don't need one." He took another deep breath. "I think that it's now out in the open that you do not have a stuttering or speech deficiency at all. That was all an act, wasn't it?"

"No, not entirely," she lowered her head nervously as her confession emerged. "I-I do get nervous sometimes and I don't talk to people very well."

Willy nodded but took a deep breath. "It's alright. At least you know that I did not intend to make you nervous. In fact, I think that the reason I told you that there was something hidden about you was this annoying act."

Felicity raised her head and looked at him somewhat surprised, but still, no words emerged from her. Instead, she simply waited for him to continue speaking.

"The truth is, like you, I am not as well equipped at this thing called 'making small talk'," he said. "Basically, I was left to conclude that you needed some help. After you left the Inventing Room, I noticed that you were terrified of something. I don't really like being the catalyst to that sort of emotion."

"But you're not," she whispered but instead of elaborating, she looked away, all the while unwilling to speak of her fears. She was scared, but there was something that seemed to emanate the man that made it look as though he could read her like a dime-store novel.

He reached over and touched her face. When he felt the moisture from her tears against his skin, he withdrew his hand. "Whatever you tell me, I will keep your confidence." He paused, trying to allow his words to sink in. When she did not respond, he continued. "Felicity, I want to help you and I can tell that something is bothering you. If you refuse to talk to me, then there is nothing I can do."

"I can't talk about it," she whispered fearfully.

"Why?" He asked. "Do you think that I would consider firing you over whatever it is you have to say?"

She closed her eyes, but a slow nod was all that emerged.

Seeing this, the chocolatier took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I'm not like that. I would never abuse another person like that."

"Maybe you'd be better off if you did," she whispered, but looked away.

Willy adamantly shook his head. "You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" He asked.

She took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Mr. Wonka."

Of course, the words from Jeremy kept coming back to her and telling her that she should try and seduce the chocolatier so that she could get what her oppressor wanted. If she could earn the confectioner's trust, then she could put this chapter behind her and not live out the rest of her life behind bars.

"You're not 'fine', you have not been 'fine' for months." His words abruptly broke into her thoughts. "I want you to tell me what happened after I left the break room."

"I-I finished the water and went back to the Inventing Room," she began.

"Were you alone, or was there someone with you?" He asked.

Felicity took a deep breath. Now she was stuck between either lying to him or telling too much. Fearfully, she shook her head, but opted to telling a little white lie. "I was alone."

Willy took a deep breath. "Alright, I will take your word for it, but I have to tell you that I spoke with Adam and Gertrude about this and she told me some rather interesting things about you."

"About me?" She asked.

"Well, they were things that Clarence Bucket had told her. Now, I can't go into too many details about what she said, but I can tell you that she's worried about you."

"It's not really any of her business," Felicity whispered.

"Well, yes and no. Gertrude is your immediate supervisor, Felicity, and whatever problems you may have on the job are her business," he said sternly. "Just as they are my business."

She looked away her head lowering upon hearing his words. "Is that why I'm here?" She whispered. "So you can get angry with me all over again?"

"No, that's not why." Willy said as he took a deep breath. Thread these waters very gently, he coaxed himself, she's as fragile as an egg shell. "I'm not angry with you, but there are people who are worried about you, and among them are people who want to be your friends."

"Friends?" She whispered.

"Yes," he nodded and offered a slight smile. "And as a friend as well as your employer, I want you take the rest of the day off. I will not be docking your pay for this, but you need the time. Get yourself sorted out and I'll see you back here bright and early tomorrow morning."

"But I shouldn't," she started to object.

"Perhaps not, but this time, I'm insisting on it. Felicity, go home and get some rest. I don't want to see you back in the Inventing Room until tomorrow morning, alright?" He said firmly.

"You're really not angry with me?" She asked.

He shook his head but offered her a gentle smile. "I will be if you don't go home."

She offered a half-hearted nod before getting to her feet and slowly leaving the office.

* * *

An hour later, as Willy had advised, Felicity had returned to the small apartment complex where she lived. As luck would have, Jeremy Cooper had not yet found out her address, but she figured that eventually he would and then she would either have to move to get away from him.

As she made her way up the small path that would lead inside the building, she saw a heavy set man turn around. He was dressed in a red colored shirt and blue overalls. His skin was the color of hot cocoa just before the marshmallows were added and he seemed to emanate a very warm persona, which somehow drew her closer.

Just as she was passing by the flower beds and making her way towards the door, he stopped everything he was doing, his head turning as though expecting her. This gave her the chance to take in a friendly looking face and dark brown marble-like eyes.

"Excuse me, young lady, but would you mind handing me the small shovel in the work case over there?" He asked. As he spoke, she could see that his hand was protectively pushing back a crowd of daisies in order to reach the weeds that were cropping up beneath the green leaves that extended out from their stems.

Nodding, the young woman went over to the large tool box and found the requested item. Retrieving it, she returned to his side and handed it to him.

"Thank you, you just saved these daisies from my clumsy weed pulling escapade," he said with a cordial smile as his attention once more shifted back to the flower bed that he was weeding.

For her part, instead of going inside, Felicity sat down on the ground and casually began to pull some of the weeds out using her bare hands. "You don't have to do that," he said. "That is not your job, but I do appreciate the thought."

"It's not trouble, I actually like doing this kind of work," she said casually. "I used to help my grandmother with her gardening and it was really relaxing for me."

"That sounds like a nice way to occupy your time," he smiled as he handed her a pair of work gloves. "Here, put these on, they will protect your hands against scratches."

Felicity accepted them and nodded as she pulled the gloves over her hands. "Are you the new handyman here? I mean is that why you're doing all this work?" She asked as she began to attack the weeds once again.

"Yes, you might say that I ran out of chores inside, and thought I'd see about taking care of making this place look a bit more lived in." He smiled. "My name is Sam. And you are?"

"Felicity Jacobs," she offered freely. "I live in 4B."

"That's a very unusual name, Felicity," he remarked.

"It was my aunt's name," she offered freely. "When I was born, my parents had planned for a boy. I guess these days everyone does. They wanted someone to pass on the family name and so they had all these boys' names in mind. They had, 'Stefan, Sebastian, or Antonio. Anyway the list goes on and on of possible names they had concocted for me. Then I pop out, a girl, and no one was prepared for it. Out of the blue, my mother decided to give me an unusual name and since she liked some actress on her favorite soap opera; so I was named after her."

"No real meaning behind the name then, right?" He asked.

"Not really," she said. "I may not have necessarily been an accident, but I wasn't what anyone expected either."

"Sometimes that's a good thing," Sam said. "It's like these flowers. They start out as seeds and you put them in the ground, and you don't know what's going to come up. Well you know because the package lists the kind of flower, but you don't know what the color is going to be. Will it be yellow, white, or pink? Yet, somehow, you believe that it doesn't really matter because the plant will still be special and beautiful."

"That's a really nice analogy, Sam," she said weakly. "But, you're forgetting one thing; I'm not a flower."

"Are you certain of that?" He asked. "My friend Tess once told me a story about God's garden. Are you familiar with it?"

Felicity took a deep breath as she looked at him. "Yes, my grandmother used to tell it to me when I was a little girl. She always seemed to remember it most whenever we would weed her garden." Despite her sadness, Felicity smiled as she reflected on the story. "She told me that God created a garden with all different kinds of flowers; red ones, blue ones, white ones, and yellow ones. Each of these flowers, she called a masterpiece in their own way because of how they grew from a tiny seed and were nurtured by a loving Creator."

She shook her head as she clasped her hands together. Silence consumed them as Sam reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"You are like that flower in that garden, Felicity, you have only to discover it," he said kindly.

"I'm not sure I'm the right person for a sermon," she said weakly.

"I'm not giving you one," he said. "I just said that each of God's creations are like a flower in a garden. I didn't try to tell you how to perceive God, I simply said that you could. There's a subtle difference there."

"Alright, you're probably right, but I should go. You have work to do and I'm holding you up," she said as she pulled off the gloves and handed them to him. She started to walk slowly away from him, but just before she disappeared inside, her soft words suddenly filled his ears. "Besides, I'm not a flower, I'm probably nothing more than a weed, unwanted and unneeded."

Before Sam could so much as respond, the door had closed firmly behind her.

Sam took a deep breath as he lowered his head. "Father, give me patience and please help me to reach her. Something tells me I'm running out of time and she's going to act out in desperation."


	10. Chapter 9: Worries and Contemplations

_Greetings and welcome. First a few words to my wonderfully, awesome reviewers, specifically Victory-Starr, Jenni-OnThisSide, Zarz, Onlyaman, and Ya Ya. Many thanks to you for coming in to offer your thoughts. It's greatly appreciated and you guys do rock._

_Oh and Onlyaman, I know you're not exactly fond of Willy's character, I can understand it, but I think that writing him before all of the things that happened to him may have succeeded in making him somewhat jaded. I think that his experiences did change him to the character that you saw in the film. Of course, even that character was one I liked. Pity that the German version of the film did not offer the Gene Wilder interview where he talks about Willy Wonka setting limits for kids. It was very profound, but only in the North American release of the film, which I got while on holiday in Canada. It did give a new light to the character and inspired a great deal of my Wonka fiction._

_Thank you all for your support of this work. I have been enjoying the various dynamics of this story myself._

_Enjoy. Ya Ya, problem found and corrected, thanks for the heads up._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 9: Worries & Contemplations**

Clara Bucket was a tall woman with blonde hair and a very serious look about her. She was not someone who would generally be described as beautiful or striking, but she had a simple feminine elegance that gave away the reasons as to why Clarence had fallen in love with her after only one meeting.

With her blonde ponytail and plain dresses, she somehow emanated the lifestyle in which they lived. Her blue eyes seemed encased in a sort of earnestness that made people wonder about how well she was actually fairing during this tragic moment. Perhaps it was her experiences if anything that made her the way she was.

With a dying husband, a young son, parents, and in-laws to care for, this woman was very much the epitome of a rock. She rarely cried about anything, in fact, she carried stoicism around with her like it was a part of her wardrobe.

During the days after his initial meeting with Clarence Bucket, Andrew discovered that not only was he learning a great many things about his assignment, but he was also being introduced to the dynamics of this rather extraordinary family.

Clara Bucket was the one person who had somehow managed to hold them all together, even now, during their gravest challenge.

On that particular afternoon, Andrew was seated next to the bed, casually dressed and watching the various comings and goings in the house. Every so often he would glance back to Clarence and offer some comment or other. These exchanges were unheard by the human inhabitants, but this did not stop both angel and assignment from watching what was happening and speaking openly about it.

As the five o'clock hour chimed, Clara was standing in the kitchen cutting up a head of cabbage when someone knocked at the front door of the house. Taking a deep breath, she put down the knife, wiped her hands on a towel, and went to open the door.

She pulled the small curtain aside and cast a glance through the glass window, her eyes clouding over for only a brief moment. Once again, whether intended or not, she would be distracted from her task of preparing her family's evening meal.

Releasing the pent up breath, she opened the door. "Gertrude," she spoke to her visitor, her voice light. "What brings you by?"

Clarence's former co-worker smiled warmly as she handed a small package of spices to Clara. Gertrude knew that normally Clara would not accept money or other signs of charitable intentions, but since the older woman did grow certain herbs and spices in her garden, the offering was vastly appreciated by members of the impoverished family.

"Hello, Clara," the older woman said with a warm smile, her motherly essence somehow filling the tiny house. "How are you doing, honey?"

"As well as to be expected, come on in, I'm just getting dinner started," she said. Contrary to the stress of making the daily ration of soup, Clara managed a warm smile in the direction of the guest.

"I see, well I don't want to keep you or anything," she said.

Clara shrugged her shoulders. "You're not, that is, if you don't mind my continuing with the cabbage cutting. What brings you by?"

"I needed to talk to you about something rather urgent," Gertrude said. "I know that perhaps this is not the right time or circumstance, but today I heard that something had happened during the time that Clarence was working at the factory."

"Something?" Clara asked.

"I was just wondering if he ever mention to you a young lady by the name Felicity Jacobs?" Gertrude said. "She's a young girl, mid twenties. She's been working since February and I fear that she is going through something rather traumatic."

"You mentioned her the other day when you stopped by, but after wracking my brain about this for the last few days, I can't really recall him ever mentioning her. Of course, that's not saying a lot, because Clarence rarely spoke of the events at his workplace. I suppose he never was into taking part in the general gossip. Why do you ask? I mean; what sort of trouble is she in?"

"I'm not really sure, but something tells me that it involves a man that started working there several months back. Mr. Wonka seems rather convinced that Clarence knew something about it. At least that was what he implied when we spoke this morning," Gertrude said. "I know it sounds horrible of me to say so, but I'm very much afraid that something dreadful is about to happen at the factory and it's centered primarily on Felicity."

Clara went over to the counter and reached for the head of cabbage. "I wish I could help you, Gertrude, but I do have so much on my mind right now that I'm not really sure if what I could offer would be of any help. Clarence is on his last leg, the doctor doesn't think he's going to make it through to the end of the week. I can't really think about Willy Wonka right now as I have a family that needs my undivided attention."

Gertrude followed her into the kitchen, but as she passed the table, she reached for a chair and pulled a chair over to the counter. Once she had seated herself, she watched as the younger woman set about to work.

"I do understand that, dear," she said calmly as she reached over and touched Clara's hand. The chopping abruptly stopped as Clara unconsciously clenched the fist of her free hand. "I just want to do what is right by everyone. You know I wouldn't be asking unless it was important."

Clara nodded as she took a deep breath. "I know, but in all honesty, Clarence rarely even mentioned Mr. Wonka when he would come home. I know he saw him on a daily basis, but perhaps the one we should be asking is my father. He's always been somewhat obsessed about the factory. In fact, if Clarence did mention the goings on there, then it was probably to him." She cast a glance back into the main room where her parents and in-laws slept. "It's strange, he told my dad all these stories about Mr. Wonka, but he never really wanted to confide too terribly much about it to Charlie."

"Why not?" Gertrude asked.

"I think he wanted Charlie to understand that a man is not defined by where he works, but by the work he does and the difference that he makes," Clara said honestly. "I suppose that doesn't really make a great deal of sense as I now work in a laundry house and I would hope that no one would define me by that fact."

Andrew listened as the two women conversed, his thoughts drifting. How am I going to make contact with Clara after Clarence goes Home? He asked himself, but after several minutes his gaze came to rest of the bed linins that Clarence rested on. That might work, he thought to himself. Perhaps through her work he could contact her. Filing that thought away, he glanced down at his assignment.

"You think it will work, Clarence?" He asked.

The man's face stretched slightly into what could only be interpreted as a smile, but then he relaxed as though all his energy had given out.

Sighing sadly, Andrew knew what was coming and that basically meant that Clarence's time was drawing short. Perhaps by the end of the day, he would be leaving the Bucket house with his assignment in tow.

Clarence was now in that in between state between life and death. He remembered when Adam had tried to explain this concept during one of his very first Angel of Death cases. It seemed strange at first, but now he had had enough assignments under his belt to detect the overt signs that the end was drawing near.

At the same time, he wondered how Adam was fairing. From what Sam had told him, this case was becoming more than just a simple situation of taking a dying man home. Now, with the conversation between Clara and Gertrude filling his ears, Andrew knew beyond any doubt that something was amiss.

His attention shifted back to the women's dialogue. They seemed to be wrapping it up, as Gertrude was starting to stand up and make her way back over towards the front door.

"I really wish I could help with Felicity, Gertrude," Clara was saying. "But, I'm not so sure there is a great deal I can do for her and right now, I really do have so much on my mind. Will you at least keep me posted on how things are going?"

"Of course, dear, and if you need anything – anything at all, don't hesitate to call me," she said. With a final squeeze to Clara's hand and a casual glance over towards Clarence, the older woman continued speaking. "God bless you, and your family, Clara. Martin and I are praying for you all."

The impoverished woman nodded. "Thank you, Gertrude," she offered a watery smile. "Something tells me we're going to need all the help we can get in that department."

The older woman nodded, but left the rickety house as Clara closed the door.

With the utmost determination, Clara Bucket returned to the counter and continued the chore of getting the evening ration of cabbage soup ready for her family.

* * *

At the same time Andrew was lulling about what was going to happen with the Buckets, Adam had finished his first day of work at the factory. The other workers had already left for the day and he was doing his best to clean up his work station.

There's no sense leaving it a mess, he thought as he took a white colored cloth and wiped the brass covered machine. Stepping back after several minutes he smiled at his work. This looks good, he thought with a casual nod.

He folded and placed the cloth on the bar that extended from one side of the machine to the other. That was it, time to head back to the house and see if I can help Tess in any way, he thought as he started to pad his way across the room.

Seconds later, his assignment's voice filled his ears, and he turned around.

"I have never seen anyone take to cleaning like this before," Willy spoke as he came out into the room. It seemed clear that he was watching Adam's actions. "You want to stick around and help me with something?"

"Do you always work?" Adam asked somewhat incredulously.

Willy nodded. "I do some of my best and most secret work after everyone leaves. But, something tells me that you're a trustworthy sort. After what happened with the slip of paper in my office, I figure that I could use some help as I can't operate the machine all by myself."

"Who usually helps you?" Adam asked curiously.

"Gertrude, but she said that she wanted to go see the Bucket family today. From what she said, Clarence is on his last leg," Willy said. "It seems so strange, the whole story with that family."

"Why do you say that?" Adam asked.

"I pay my workers rather well," Willy said openly. "I take care of their medical needs through the various insurance companies. I have always prided myself on being a good employer." Laced in these words, Adam could detect some traces of overconfidence, but he also detected something else, and undeniable sadness.

For whatever, reason, Willy Wonka was not happy, and yet he spread that joy around like there was no tomorrow.

"You are a good employer, Mr. Wonka, don't ever doubt yourself in that regard," Adam said diplomatically.

"Perhaps, but I cannot understand how that family must live," Willy said softly. "I wanted to help but they would not accept my help. They have so much pride and although I was obligated to pay for his treatment, his wife would not accept it."

"You can't argue against the wishes of the family, even if you do have the best of intentions in mind," Adam said. "Perhaps there is a reason that we don't yet know of."

Willy shook his head, his curly hair flying about his head. "Gertrude told me once that they live in a one room house on the edge of town. A family of seven in that tiny house. She also said that when Clarence was struck ill, it took every last penny of their savings to take care of him. As I said, I wanted to do something to help, but they wouldn't accept it." He brushed his hand through his curly locks of hair and shook his head. "Should I feel guilt or remorse for being successful?"

"No," Adam shook his head. "You have no reason to feel anything like that, but I must say that you are the example of how having a great deal does not always guarantee true happiness or joy."

"Perhaps," the chocolatier said. He cast a glance around the Inventing Room, the place was now empty and he found himself leaning casually against one of the walls of the large room.

"If you don't mind my asking," Adam said delicately. "How's Felicity doing, did she at least tell you something?"

"She didn't say a word, and now I'm rather at a loss as to what to do about her," he said. "I sent her home, but she was so afraid that I would dock her pay or something. I didn't, but Adam, I could see why she was afraid of that."

"Why don't you go see her then?" Adam suggested. "I know it's not any of my business, but if she had someone to talk to at her home, on her turf, so to speak, it might actually help. I figure that if she were to say anything, then it might feel easier or safer for her to talk to you there."

"What makes you so sure that she would want to talk to me?" Willy asked.

"I don't really know, it just seems to me that you care a great deal for her. Perhaps more than you are currently willing to admit," Adam said casually. "Look, can I be honest, Mr. Wonka?"

The chocolatier nodded. "If you would not address me like that anymore then yes." When Adam's face shadowed confusion, he continued. "My name is Willy. I sometimes grow tired of everyone being so formal with me. If I am able to use someone's first name in addressing them, then why can't they?" He paused. "I don't have very many friends, Adam. I have people who work for me, but there's something about you that makes it easier for me to talk freely. I can't explain it though, so please don't ask me to try."

Adam smiled. "Alright, I won't, but I have to tell you that I don't get that sort of acknowledgement very often. It's greatly appreciated."

Willy nodded, but offered a weary smile. "Perhaps I ought to put the work aside for today and take a break."

"Does that mean that you going to leave the factory and go visit Felicity?" Adam asked.

"She is my employee, Adam," Willy objected.

"Yes, she is, but she's also a human being, and even those who work for you would have no problems considering you a friend if you offered that option to them. Look at how easily you have accepted me after only one day," he smiled. "If I am not mistaken, the offer to speak informally is, in fact, a sign of friendship."

"I don't know," he mused. "It would probably seem strange for me to show up there now, wouldn't it?"

"I'm afraid that conclusion is not left up to you. How she accepts your gestures will be up to her and her alone," Adam said as he took a deep breath. "Do you, at least, have her address?"

"Yes, it's in her employment file, and I have it back in my office," he said as he looked down at his flamboyant clothing. "Perhaps I ought to go and change before I leave the factory. I have learned that when dealing with the outside world, that being inconspicuous is perhaps the greatest asset there is."

As these words drifted about the Inventing Room, the two of them sank into companionable silence. After several moments had passed, Willy took another deep breath. "Adam, for the record, I'm really glad that you're here."

The angel nodded. "I am too, Willy."

Instead of working on the secret machine, both the chocolatier and the angel opted to leaving the Inventing Room for the day.

For the first time since Adam started this assignment, he was beginning to feel as though something good was going to come out of it. Willy was going to see Felicity, Gertrude had gone to see Clara Bucket about the situation there. To top all of that off, he would be able to return to the house where he was staying for the duration of his assignment and maybe – just maybe, he might be getting some praise from Tess.

This had indeed turned into a pretty promising day after all.


	11. Chapter 10: Angels Among Us

_Zarz, the man's name you mentioned in your review is Mr. Wilkenson. I didn't really include him here in the story because I didn't want this to turn into a quasi 'In Another's Eyes' which I finished late last year._

_Otherwise, not much to say. I have a lot of different things going on, but I want to make sure that everything does tie into everything else. This isn't just a bunch of stuff happening all over the place. But, there are various aspects of the story that need to be addressed. We have, Felicity, being watched over by Sam. The Bucket family being watched over by Andrew, and Willy being watched over by Adam. The only angel who doesn't seem to have a firmly affixed place is Tess, and I already have an idea swimming around for her that I don't want to give away. Just wait, her attitude will find a place in all of this, mark my words!_

_Otherwise, thanks again to Zarz, Ya Ya, Victory Starr, Jenni-OnThisSide, and Onlyaman for the continued support of this particular story. It means a great deal to me. BTW, just so you know, I don't generally think Sam would give anyone access to the building, but since he's sort of on the inside lines here, that it was okay to use that at the end of the chapter._

_With that, I give you chapter ten, which is using the title of one of my favorite songs, by the group Alabama. :)_

_Edited January 14, 2009.  
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**Chapter 10: Angels Among Us**

At the same moment that Adam was speaking with Willy, Tess had left the halfway house where she was working and had taken a walk through the nearby church yard. The Father had told her that she would be able to find Charlie Bucket walking aimlessly about. Once she would find them, she would be able to tell him that there were angels in their midst, who wanted to help both him and his family. Of course, she hoped that he would not speak of their interaction as it might get in the way of Andrew fulfilling his part of the case.

Besides that, she figured that if he did speak of it, the adults would no doubt consider him to be nothing more than an imaginative child who was making up stories.

Just as was conveyed to her, Tess saw the youngest member of the Bucket family in the exact place she had been told. His spry blond hair and his tattered clothing seemed to give away the fact that the young boy had far more on his mind than the simple distractions that came with being a child. It was more than clear that the boy's eyes were simply staring down at the ground, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and childlike innocence.

He walked slowly, his steps shuffling along the ground. He did not speak to a single person, in fact, his whole world seemed almost consumed in the questions that ravaged his young spirit. He could not help but wonder what would happen to his father during the duration of time while he was away.

His mother had insisted that he should go outside and get some fresh air while she made dinner. It was a realistic conclusion that it was unhealthy for a child at that age to simply sit at his father's bedside and wait for the inevitable to take place.

Perhaps Clara knew that it would be easier for her husband if the boy was not always present. That way, he could slip silently away without any regret. Whatever the case, Tess watched the distraught child as he shuffled along the garden path.

How would he be able to have any fun with the knowledge that his father would be gone by the time he had returned home? Stopping, he turned back around and faced the direction, which he had come. His teeth, as if by impulse were unconsciously biting down on his lower lip.

He continued to walk, his steps slow as he reached the church yard that extended along the perimeters of the town. He had never been beyond the gate at the front of the cemetery, but he used to, in his mind, play connect the dots with the various headstones.

Reaching out he touched the heavy iron gate of the entrance as he tried to open it so that he could enter the grounds. Once he managed, he started to walk down the graveled path. The place was empty and somehow this gave him the chance to ponder what was happening in his life.

Instead of going to one specific grave, Charlie spotted a bench and started to make his way over so that he could sit down on it.

Once he was seated, he pressed his elbows against his knees and stared off into space, his thoughts somehow going crazy. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at his father's watch that was now wound snugly around his wrist.

Wordlessly, he touched the leather band, his eyes closing momentarily as he tried to make heads or tails of what was happening in his life. His mother had never said that his father was dying, yet somehow he knew, because for the last week, he was seeing some strange man with shoulder length wavy blond hair seated next to the bed.

Was I supposed to see him? He pondered more often than not. Of course, the child did not feel courageous enough to engage the stranger in dialogue, but he did, in fact, see him. Was this man an angel? Did God know that his father was dying and sent him to their home?

Charlie ran his hand through his blond hair and stared down at the graveled pathway. He must have been seated there for a long time because someone cleared their throat and he raised his head.

Immediately, he recognized a heavy set woman with mahogany colored skin standing in front of him. She wore a knee length floral print dress, her hair pulled back with a silver barrette and angel shaped earrings hung from her earlobes. To the child, she looked rather like a gypsy, minus the scarves that he had seen so often on television. Initially, the woman said nothing, instead she started to inch her way closer to where he was seated.

Once she had sat down next to him, she spoke. "Hello there, baby," she said, her voice filled with warmth. Although the woman looked nothing like any member of his family, the cadence of her voice seemed to carry the same sort of warmth and love that emerged from his Grandma Josephine.

"Hi," the boy said shyly, but looked away, his eyes momentarily closing as he dug the toe of his worn out sneaker into the ground. All the while, he could tell that she was keeping a rather safe distance from him.

"Nice day, isn't it?" She asked as though wanting to instigate a conversation with him.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, "I guess," he mumbled but started to get to his feet and make even more distance between himself and the woman. "I'm sorry but I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I understand that, but I'm not a stranger," the woman smiled, her expression never losing that element of kindness or warmth. "My name is Tess, Charlie."

"H-how'd you know my name?" He asked his eyes widening fearfully. Somehow, it seemed rather clear to her that he was surprised at how she actually did know who he was.

"I know your name, baby, because God told me," she said. "You see, I'm an angel and I was sent here to help you and family."

"You're an angel, you mean God knows about us?" He asked.

Tess smiled, but offered him a slow nod. "Yes, He does."

"Then that means, you're friends with that guy, the one who's been sitting next to my dad," Charlie said softly.

"Yes, I am. That man's name is Andrew, and you're going to see him again after your daddy goes to heaven," she said delicately.

"I'm not afraid of you, but I'm not ready to die, so you can just go away," he said stubbornly.

Tess began to laugh softly, the sounds emerging from deep within her throat. "I know you're not, honey, but just because you see an angel doesn't mean you're going to die," she reassured him. "Actually, there are other angels here, right now, even Willy Wonka has an angel."

"He does?" Charlie asked. "Why?"

"Because right now, he needs one, just like you need one and your mother needs one," Tess said. "A lot of people in this town need angels."

"Tess, you can't let Mr. Wonka die," the boy sniffed. "I mean; I want to meet him some day, and…I really like his candy. I mean; it's the best. If he goes, there won't be anyone to make my favorite candy anymore."

"Well, as far as I know, Willy's going to be just fine, and he should be around for a long, long time," Tess said softly. "But, there's something else that I have to tell you."

"I already know that my dad's dying," he said with wisdom that went beyond his young age.

"You're going to have to be very brave, Charlie. In the coming years, your life is going to change drastically. You will discover something very special, but you will have to go through a great many challenges before that actually happens. Today, your daddy is going to heaven, but Andrew will be back to see you and he's going to help you and your family find peace and healing."

"God wants me to be brave, doesn't He?" The child asked. Incased in his words was a childlike simplicity that made him enchanting.

"Yes, baby, that's what He wants, but remember, Charlie, to be brave, means to allow yourself to feel what it is you feel. I know that sometimes people say you shouldn't cry, but God wants you to cry, so that you can heal. He needs you to help Andrew try and reach your mother, that's why he asked me to come and see you today. This is not going to be easy, but the Father thinks that you should know that His angels are present, and we're going to try and help everyone in the best way we know how."

The boy nodded, but lowered his head. "I'm going to miss him, Tess."

"I know you are, but it's important for you to know that Andrew will not abandon your family," she said.

"Will I get to see you again?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No, baby, but you won't need to see me. Trust the Father, He will help you."

"You mean, pray?" The boy asked softly.

Tess nodded. "Yes. He's always listening."

Charlie nodded and within seconds the angel was gone.

* * *

At the very same instant and in another part of town, Willy Wonka stepped from the confines of the factory. His familiar blue eyes were now concealed behind a pair of sunglasses, his hair slicked down so that his appearance was somewhat unrecognizable. He held in his hand a slip of paper with Felicity Jacobs' address written on it.

He was nervous about going to her home, so much so that instead of immediately going there, he found himself walking towards the very same cemetery where Charlie Bucket was sitting on a bench and talking to Tess.

The chocolatier did not see Tess as she was gone before his arrival, but he did see the child sitting alone on the bench staring off into space. Instead of approaching him, he walked past and further down the path.

He rounded his way between the stones, his steps slow and deliberate. He inhaled slowly as he reached one of the stones and stopped in front of it.

Embossed across it, he read the names of the connecting graves: Wilbur and Henrietta Wonka. Willy's mother had died when he was five, he could barely remember her except that she had had the same wiry curls of hair atop her head as he did. His father had passed on during the early parts of 1960. They had resolved their animosity before the elder Wonka's passing, but still, this did not leave the famed chocolatier with any semblance of family.

In fact, aside from his prided work, Willy Wonka had nothing else, no siblings, no cousins, nothing, just faded memories and an oversized gravestone. He was, simply put, completely alone and isolated from the rest of the world.

He inhaled slowly, as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry, I haven't been back here in such a long time," he whispered under his breath as he brushed the leaves and twigs off the grave stone. "I've had so many other things going on with the business that I didn't get any chances to come and visit."

He got back on his feet, his stance now at his full height. When he turned away from the stone, he could see that the boy who had been sitting on the bench had gotten up and approached where he now stood.

"It's pretty," the boy said, the simplicity of his words somehow filling the chocolatier's ears.

"The stone?" He asked, all the while taking in the boy's appearance. He looked pretty ragged, right down to the tennis shoes with a hole in the left toe.

"Uh-huh," came the response, but he started to back away from where Willy was standing. Somehow he remembered his mother's lectures on talking to strangers.

Before the child could leave, Willy turned away from the grave. "Wait, you look sort of familiar, what's your name?"

"Charlie," the boy said. "But, I gotta go home."

As understanding washed over him, Willy took a deep breath. "Are you Clarence Bucket's son?"

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks, but nodded. "Yeah. Do you know my dad?"

"M-hmm," Willy nodded, but for whatever reason, he did not elaborate. Instead, he watched as the boy walked over to the grave stone and stared down at the names. "Can you read what is on the stone?" He asked, his curiosity now getting the better of him.

"No," the boy whispered, "I'm not in school yet." He ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair, and closed his eyes.

"Are you visiting someone?" Willy asked. "Is that why you're here?"

"Not yet," came the soft answer. The boy closed his eyes, and wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not yet?" Willy parroted as he dug in the pocket of his jacket and extracted a cloth handkerchief. "Here, take this, my boy, and wipe your eyes."

Charlie accepted the object and wiped the tears from beneath his eyes. What he did not see was the embroidered W.W. that was on the corner of the small white piece of cloth. His inability to decipher letters was clear but after wiping his eyes, he started to extend it back the chocolatier.

Willy held up his hands in negation. "No, go ahead and keep it, Charlie. Something tells me you're going to need it more than I do."

The boy nodded and stuffed the cloth in the pocket of his jeans. "Thanks, Mister."

"My pleasure," he smiled. "You should head for home, it's probably nearing supper time."

"Cabbage water," the boy mused, but with a casual nod in Willy's direction, he started to make his way back down the path.

Once he was alone, Willy started to walk away from his parents' grave. He would have to go and see Felicity now before heading back to the factory. The apartment building where she lived was not too terribly far from the cemetery, in fact, after five or so minutes away.

Within a short span of time, he had reached the front of the Victorian style building.

Above the front doors, he could see the numbers that were placed aside the arched doorways. Out in the yard of the building with the number that matched the piece of paper he carried, a heavy set man was still working out in the flower beds.

He approached the door as the man raised his head.

"Hello," he called out.

"Hello," Willy returned the greeting as the man got to his feet and began to brush the earth from the front of his overalls. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone, a young lady named Felicity Jacobs," he said as he took a deep breath.

The man nodded, but dug in his pocket for a key. "You a friend?"

Willy nodded.

"Alright, I'll let you in," he said.

Willy nodded, somewhat surprised at the man's willingness to help him, a virtual stranger. "Thank you." He managed to speak as he started to follow the man into the building. Before he knew it, was standing in front of the door marked 4B, his palms were sweating and soon he could feel the moisture settling above his eyes and beading his forehead.

Nervously, he reached out and rang the bell.


	12. Chapter 11: The Emotion of Heartache

_I have to give a shout out to everyone with my sincerest thanks for your interest and reading this story._

_At any rate, a special thanks has to go out to those kind people reviewing this story. I know that not all of you are into Willy Wonka and not all of you are into TBAA, but it's very nice for me to be able to write something that brings all of you together. So, my thanks to you for stopping in and giving this story a read through._

_Enjoy. Onlyaman, the problem is corrected. Thanks for the heads up._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 11: The Emotion of Heartache**

As soon as the chiming sounds could be heard throughout the corridor, Willy watched as the door slowly opened. This was followed by a slight gasp as the occupant stared up at him. He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice soft.

"Hello, Felicity," he said trying to offer the young woman a reassuring smile. Somehow he felt rather astonished that he was actually there and had not opted to heed his conscience and to return immediately to the sanctuary of the factory.

"Mr. Wonka?" She whispered his name, her voice shaking unconsciously. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Honestly?" He asked and when she nodded, he continued speaking. "I don't really know, I just thought I would stop by and see how you're doing."

"Why?"

The chocolatier took a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair as he looked at her. "May I come in?" He asked, as opposed to answering her question. For whatever reason, he had absolutely no idea why he was there. Part of him was internally grumbling about how Adam had convinced him to do this in the first place.

Felicity seemed not to notice this, instead she backed away from the door so that he could enter. "It's not much," she offered.

That was an understatement, Willy thought as he came into the apartment and the door closed behind him. Aside from the place bearing a striking resemblance to a hovel in Brooklyn, New York, the place smelled of overpriced air fresheners and mold. Perhaps not the safest place in the world for the young woman to live in, the chocolatier thought wryly. She could probably get all kinds of diseases in here, his thoughts continued as walked over to the sofa and rested his hand on the arm of it. The moisture that seemed to emanate up from it made his lip unconsciously curl as he smelled the strange essence of moth balls and dank air.

Casting another quick glance around, he could tell that the whole place carried the essence that it should have been condemned before it was even built. All around, the chocolatier could see chipped paint on the walls, and the corners of the ceilings were arched and covered with a green fuzzy substance. Mold, no doubt, he concluded as he abruptly crossed the room to the window.

"What are you doing?" She asked noting his movements.

"You need fresh air in here," he said firmly as he opened the window and immediately felt a steady stream of air wafting through the room. "It's no wonder you're doing so poorly at work. You literally live in a mold infested dive. Didn't you know that after prolonged exposure to this stuff, you could get seriously ill from it? That's Chemistry 101, my dear Felicity." His words came across somewhat condescendingly, but he did not pay it any mind, instead he continued speaking, his words bordering on a command. "Now, I want you to make sure each day that you open the windows for at least half an hour. Until you get some bleach to put on the affected area, you need to be very careful. You don't want the mold to spread. Or do you?"

He took a deep breath as he continued to survey the place where his young employee was forced to live in. If all the people who work for me must live in such horrific places, there I have no other alternative but to raise their salaries and make certain they at least live with some traces of dignity intact. With this thought still in his head, he turned back to face the young woman.

"Now then, I know you weren't expecting me to show up out of the blue like this, much less give your living quarters a once over, but perhaps it was good thing that I did." As he spoke, he removed his overcoat while Felicity handed him a hanger. She watched as he hung the jacket on the small stand that was next to the door.

Finishing the task, he slowly walked across the room and hesitantly sat down on the sofa. He figured that if he looked calm that it might help her to relax.

When she nervously sat down on the arm at the end of the sofa, he realized that his blunt observations about her apartment perhaps did not help matters in the slightest. Abruptly the woman stood up and looked nervously at him. "I wasn't really expecting guests," she said trying to keep her voice even. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," he said.

He did not even add that in this hovel, he was not sure if eating and drinking were high on his list of priorities to begin with. Instead of commenting on this, he spoke on an unrelated topic. "Listen, Felicity, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I thought that maybe we could talk off the record. That is whatever we talk about will stay in this room and have no bearing on what happens at work. You remember before I sent you home that I told you how I wanted to be a friend, and not just your boss."

She lowered her head, but nodded. "Being friends with someone like me is not a good idea," she whispered, but did not add that the thought of being friends with this man held a certain level of appeal to her nonetheless.

"Why ever not?" He asked. "Felicity, what is so wrong with someone trying to be your friend?"

"I don't know…" she began, her voice abruptly tapering off.

"That does not answer my question," he said firmly.

Felicity lowered her head until she was staring down at her lap. "It's just not a good idea is all." As these words filled the musty apartment, she slid down off the arm of the sofa and felt herself unconsciously inching closer to where he was seated. She spoke no further words, but instead, looked at him, her expression laced in uncertainty.

I care about this man more than anyone else I've ever known, her thoughts were running rampant on her. At the same instant and still unable to speak, she waited for him to say something more. When he finally did, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"You know, it may seem out of character for me to be here, but I want to help you. I would be willing to wager that at the factory, I couldn't really do very much. Perhaps it was because you were in my territory and that leaves room for susceptibility. You see, I do understand how that feels because I'm now here, and on your turf, if you will."

Without thinking of what he was doing, he reached over and gently captured one of her hands. After several seconds, she abruptly felt the gentle pressure as well as the soft squeezes that he exerted against it. Instead of backing away from this, she unconsciously allowed herself to tighten her hold as well.

Seconds later, his words eventually emerged. "Would you trust me enough to tell me what's going on? After all, we are in your home and here is where you should have nothing at all to be afraid of."

"I wish that were the case," she whispered sadly, the tears threatening to spring from beneath her eyes.

"Felicity, please, tell me what can I do that will show you that I will not let anyone hurt you. I'll do whatever I can to protect you, but you have to, at the very least, tell someone what is happening to you. I don't want to watch this burden destroy you. I can see rather clearly that that is what is happening."

Felicity bit down on her lip, as the tears caught in her eyes. "I'm frightened," she whispered.

"I know, I can tell," he said gently. Something deep down told him that he would ultimately have to pry the entire story out of her. Take it slow, he edged himself silently along. She'll tell you when she's ready, but he wanted nothing more than for her to be ready now. "Why are you afraid?" He asked her softly.

She shook her head, her eyes clamping shut, as the unshed tears threatened to fall. She took several gasping breaths, trying all the while at keeping the suppressed emotions from getting the better of her. Soon, however, the barriers that she had so painstakingly built up around herself were threatening to crumble right there in front of him.

Willy took a deep breath and without so much as contemplating what he was doing, he released her hand so that he could fill the space between them and wrap her in the sanctuary of his embrace. Soon, she felt her face being pressed up against the softness of his shirt with one of his hands gently stroking her hair.

There, wrapped in her employer's arms, Felicity Jacobs allowed herself to finally cry.

As her entire body began to tremble from the suppressed emotion, she unconsciously gripped the front of his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly in her fist as Willy began to rock her slowly in his arms.

As her crying subsided, the young woman's hold relaxed until she rested limp in his arms. She had not spoken a word to him about what was happening with Jeremy Cooper. She did feel somewhat better about having, at the very least, cried. Figuring that it would break the mood, she concluded that that would have to suffice.

Of course, this left Willy as much in the dark as to what was happening with Felicity as he had been when they had spoken back at the factory. He smiled despite the conflicting emotions that were cursing their way through him. He was now fully aware of the hold that the young woman had on him. In fact, that seemed to somehow make his lonely existence not seem all that lonely.

At that precise moment, it became abundantly clear to him that Adam had been right. Contrary to the thoughts he had about the relationships that he maintained with his workers, he now was on the verge of solidifying his connection with the young woman. Instead of being based on simple concern, his emotions now seemed to span way beyond that. In fact, it was perhaps more defined than anything he could have expected.

He knew that at the factory, there was a distinctive line between their work and their private lives. In this case, that line had most definitely been crossed, because he had come to her home. Now, they were sitting together on her poor, lumpy excuse of a sofa feeling a closeness to one another that he had never even recognized at the factory.

He looked down to see that she now lay exhausted in his arms, her eyes half closed as she tiredly licked her lips. Her throat was perhaps now dry from the emotional outburst she had experienced.

Along with that, he suddenly felt this very strange and unfamiliar urge to lean down and kiss her. He had heard from the rumor mill that Felicity had a crush on him, and he pondered if stealing a kiss would appear as though he was taking advantage of her. Now, as he stared down at her, he could feel a strange, and very dangerous sensation coiling about in the pit of his stomach.

I will not take advantage of her, he thought, all the while chastising himself for having even thought such a thing. Instead he opted to keeping his body rigid as he held her in his arms. As he cast another glance down at her, he tried to convince himself that his intentions were nothing more than a friendly and kind-hearted gesture.

As she started to sit up and slide out of his hold, he looked at her, his eyes laced in concern. "Do you feel any better now?" He asked.

"A little bit," she said softly. "I-I'm sorry about that, Mr. Wonka, it wasn't my intention to…" her voice trailed off and she cast a glance towards his tear soaked shirt. Embarrassment washed over her as she turned away from him, her eyes momentarily closing.

"…Not to worry, but if you don't mind, could you cease with the formalities, at least while we're here and talking like friends?" He asked.

"I-I don't understand," she raised her head.

"Well, when you're not at work, you don't have to call me 'Mr. Wonka', just call me 'Willy'," he said. "I know that seems rather out of the ordinary to you, to call me one thing in one place and something else in another, but I'd really prefer it. In all honesty, there are times when I actually forget that I even have a first name."

Felicity nodded, and lowered her head bashfully. This was making things all the more difficult for her. If he was behaving in a distanced manner, then it would help, but he wasn't. He was being nice, and this made it all the more difficult for her to do what Jeremy had wanted. The truth remained that she did not want to seduce Willy Wonka for his secrets. Perhaps she would have been better off to do that than to give in to what her oppressor wanted.

It would be easy for her now – easy, that is, if she did not carry such strong emotional feelings towards her boss. These emotions were now proving far more difficult to conceal than anything she could consciously imagine.

Damn, she thought sadly. Why did Willy Wonka have to be so nice? Why couldn't he have just been this egotistical, cold hearted, and power driven tycoon like most company owners were?

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Now this wonderful man, this person whom she had such strong feelings towards was sitting on her sofa and looking at her. Those irresistible blue eyes staring into hers, and his perfect lips smiling at her.

It would be so easy, her thoughts continued to lay waste on her conscience.

After several moments of silence had passed, she opened her eyes as her shy gaze met his, the questions filling her heart and leaving her a virtual shell.

Would Willy Wonka accept her if he knew the truth about her past? Would he still see her as a good person?

No, probably not.

Now that Jeremy had managed to find her and was still roaming about, she was almost certain that he would eventually swoop down and destroy any semblance of trust that Willy had instilled in her.

I don't want to go to jail, her thoughts raked havoc on her. Right now, she would do whatever anyone said if that meant that she could stay out of prison. This was the only way that she would be able to keep Richard out of her thoughts.

She bit down on her lip as she raised her head and could see that Willy was still sitting there and silently regarding her. Maybe it would not hurt to try, she thought.

Would he be angry with her for wanting to feel something positive in a world consumed with negativity?

What would he say?

Would she be able to even look at him when she arrived at work the following day?

What would happen if she followed through with what her mind was now screaming at her to do?

After all, it was Willy Wonka who said that she should call him by his first name. Maybe that was a step, maybe one that could lead to something more.

But did he even want that? He was a man who was in a relationship with his work. To be interested in one of his lowly workers seemed more or less out of the question.

Dismissing this, she wordlessly inched closer to him and pressed her lips against his cheek. As she felt the softness of his skin beneath her lips, she suddenly felt her stomach turn inside out and start to flop about like a fish out of water.

"Thank you for being so kind," she whispered softly.

Seconds after she withdrew, she noticed that he had reached over and touched her face. After several moments, she could feel the lightness of his touch becoming all the more insistent.

It was suddenly clear to her that the many years of being alone had no doubt left their impact on the confectionary genius. He seemed to hunger for human companionship as much as, if not more, than she did.

His fingers raked across her cheeks, the softness of his fingertips somehow offering her a new feeling amidst all the pain. Willy was touching her with all the gentility that she craved, his manner causing her to sink even further away from the physical moment.

Seconds later, she could suddenly feel his lips pressing urgently against hers, the softness of them making her completely forget what was happening at work and what Jeremy Cooper was doing to her.

All Felicity was consciously aware of was the feeling of the chocolatier's lips against hers. Instead of backing away from him, she raised her arms until they had found their way around him.

Seconds later the kiss intensified.

* * *

In the corner of the room, Sam stood, his lips turned downward in a frown. This was not at all the way the assignment was supposed to go. In fact, this was exactly what should not have happened at all.

"Oh Father, what next?" he muttered under his breath as Adam appeared next to him.

As the younger of the two angels took in the scene that was unfolding before their eyes, Adam's expression became a mirrored image of what Sam's was. "Oh Sam," he eventually spoke. "I'm so sorry. It seems I really messed up, didn't I? Pity there's no such thing as 'predestination'."

The Angel of Death turned Caseworker watched as the couple on the sofa continued to kiss, his face taking on the same look of one who has eaten something unappetizing. "I was the one who made the suggestion that Willy come here. Now this is turning into a disaster of celestial proportions. It's all my fault."

"Don't be so hard on yourself Adam. Your intentions were in the right place. You wanted Willy to try and get Felicity to talk to him about what has been going on. To put it bluntly, you simply did not count on what would happen when the hormones of a lonely and isolated confectioner met those of a young woman who was in dire need of some simple human compassion."

"What are we going to do now, Sam?" Adam asked. "As much as I pity Felicity's situation, we both know that she is going to damage Willy's trust in humanity beyond recognition. That was why I was sent here. If only she had told him what was going on."

"We have to see what we can do to help Willy recognize what Jeremy is forcing Felicity to do," Sam said firmly. "It will just have to be done in another way is all."

"So my assertions were accurate, Jeremy is forcing her into doing this?" Adam whispered. "In other words, she's not a bad person, but is she using Willy, or are her feelings real?"

"Her feelings are real, Adam, but she's frightened, and I think you know that this could have an impact on the other assignments in this town. It is quite possible that things could take a dramatic turn for the worse."

"What do you mean? I thought Andrew was here to take someone home. I had no idea there were other cases going on."

"Yes, Andrew is in the process of taking Clarence Bucket Home, but I have a case here, that's Felicity, and Tess has a case."

"Tess?" Adam whispered. "I thought she was supervising?"

"No, she and I are dividing the duties here, but you and Andrew will do fine without us bossing you around. The point is, you both have cases and Tess and I have cases."

"Who is Tess' case?" Adam asked.

"Jeremy," emerged the simple answer.

Adam looked at the elder angel still bewildered. "Tess is actually going to work with Jeremy?" He asked all the while shaking his head. "She's going to need all the help the Father can give her on that one."

"Perhaps," Sam mused. "But, right now, you and I have our hands full with Felicity and Willy.

As if to emphasize his point, Sam eventually motioned with his hand towards the couple on the sofa.

Adam nodded, Sam was indeed right. This was not going to be an easy case for any of them.


	13. Chapter 12: A Loss for Words

_Thanks to Victory-Starr, Jenni OnThisSide, and Ya Ya for sticking with me on this. Here's hoping that you will enjoy the latest installment. _

_'Since' issue has been found and corrected, thanks Victory Starr. :) Corrections made, Onlyaman, thanks for the heads up._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 12: A Loss for Words**

Several hours after his meeting with Tess, Charlie returned home to the discover that his father had died. Clarence Bucket was no longer with them. Unbeknownst to Charlie, this had come about at the exact same moment Tess had appeared to him in the graveyard.

The boy, instead of telling his family about his celestial visitation in the cemetery, remained silent. His first inclination was to look over to where his father had slept prior to his passing. Not only was the child's father gone, but so was the man whom Tess had identified as Andrew was as well.

The house now had a painful sort of dull emptiness left to it.

His father's body had been taken away during the boy's absence. Instead of speaking with his mother or grandparents, Charlie retreated to his corner, climbed into bed, pulled the covers up over his head, and allowed himself to silently cry. All that was left now for his family to do was have the funeral and say their final farewells to Clarence.

In the back of his mind, Charlie could not help but wonder if his grandparents would even get out of bed to go to the funeral. Something told him that they would not, but for whatever reason, the child had ceased to care.

Now there would be a small headstone for his father in the small cemetery where he had encountered the angel named Tess and the man with the slicked back funny hair. He dug in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the handkerchief that the man had given to him. He did not dare show this to his family as he feared a lecture from his mother and grandparents on the dangers of talking to strangers. Instead, he simply moved the small square shaped piece of cloth into the bottom of a small box which contained various odds and ends.

Some might have called them his toys, but they were not any such thing. Instead there were several wrappers from Wonka bars that he had been given on his birthday and then some small stickers that his father had brought from work. These stickers were pink, blue and yellow in color and they seemed to be nothing more than old printing labels for boxes of merchandise.

Since Charlie had never known much about his father's employment history, he had no way of knowing that the old labels, the handkerchief, and the candy bar wrappers had all come from the very same place.

Stowing the handkerchief into the box, he shoved it under his bed and returned to his cocoon beneath the sheets.

What more was there left for him to do except to wait for the angel named Andrew to appear and help his mother through the grieving process?

In the back of his mind, the small boy wondered how long it would be before the angel was due to arrive. Tess had told him that his mother had an angel, as did Willy Wonka, but the boy could not stop his imagination from careening out of control.

It was true that contrary to that nice lady's words, the child still associated angels with death, and now he was not only afraid that God would take his mother or grandparents away from him, he was now contemplating the fate of the famous candy maker. Did that mean that he and Willy Wonka actually had something in common? Or was his imagination simply playing tricks on him again?

Maybe one day, he would be able to go and talk to his Grandpa Joe about it, and see what he thought about the prospect of angels maybe being among them. Until that day would come, Charlie opted to keeping his thoughts and feelings bottled up. There was, after all, very little point to his telling his family about what had happened with the angels. His realistic mother would no doubt never believe it. Besides, she already had enough on her mind without him adding to her burdens.

If Tess was right about Andrew, then Clara would be meeting angels soon enough and there was very little point to his telling her what he already knew.

Closing his eyes, Charlie drifted off to sleep.

* * *

At the same time Charlie had been contemplating angels, Tess had returned to the halfway house where she worked during this particular group of cases. She was fully aware that her assignment was Jeremy Cooper and that he lived in the apartment building adjacent to the house where she was now working. The heavyset angel was also aware of the fact that Jeremy was about as nice as a box full of rattle snakes, but she also understood that there existed a very grave and terrible secret surrounded him.

In fact, Jeremy's overall demeanor concerned her, especially when the other residents had reported that he had been tormenting them on weekends when they would outside working in the garden. Taking this into consideration, Tess arranged the schedule so that the residents would not have to be outside when Jeremy was.

She took a deep breath as she ran her hand down the front of her floral print dress and approached the front door. Abruptly, her thoughts shifted when she noticed that Andrew was standing at the entrance, his expression drawn as he regarded her.

"Hi Tess," he said as he clasped his hands together in front of him. He was still dressed in his dove gray colored suit, or what Tess started dubbing as his 'Angel of Death working clothes'.

"Hello baby," she smiled empathetically at him. "I take it from looking at you, your assignment at the Bucket house is finished."

"Yes and no," he said softly. "Clarence did go Home, but I'm supposed to stick around and help the family through the grieving process."

"Something tells me that you're here for far more than just helping them cope," she said as she motioned towards the street where Adam and Sam were slowly walking towards the building. The two angels had left Felicity's place and it seemed rather apparent that they were coming there to collaborate their efforts with hers.

"I have this strange feeling that things with those two are not going as well as they did with Clarence," she said as she raised her head and waved to the other two angels.

They returned the gesture and slowly made their way up to the front door as Tess unlocked it before ushering the three angels into the front hallway of the house.

Along one wall, a large coat rack was placed. She watched as the three men removed their overcoats and hung them up before following her into an old-fashioned style kitchen.

As soon as they were inside, she waved her hand around the table. "Adam, I take it you need some freshly squeezed orange juice." She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of juice and handed it to him. "Now, this is not the freshest, but it does have bits of fruit in it, just like you like it."

Adam offered a small smile as he accepted the carton and watched as Tess extracted a small half liter bottle of ginger ale on the table in front of Andrew. Finally, she pulled out a bottle of pomegranate juice and put it in front of Sam. She smiled at Adam and Andrew as Sam began to rub his hands together expectantly. Very few angels knew, but Sam had a weakness for the blood red colored juice.

Once the three angels had been tended to, Tess sat down next to Andrew but across from Adam and Sam. Taking a deep breath, she looked sympathetically at Adam. "I heard about what happened, baby." She reached across the table and offered his hand a comforting squeeze.

"I blew it, Tess," Adam responded. "I thought if they talked, then everything would be fine."

"But, they did more than talk, didn't they?" She asked as her gaze shifted and she was left looking at Sam. "I guess we're all four back at square one on this, aren't we?"

Sam nodded as he took a sip of his juice. "Well, I suppose it's now time for us to consolidate our efforts and take on these assignments in a different way."

"I agree," Andrew said. "After we spoke with Clarence in God's Country, Sam, I've been trying to figure out what it is we can do to help everyone involved."

Tess took a deep breath as she looked at Adam. He seemed to lulling over his orange juice with a contemplative look on his face. "Adam?" She spoke his name, and he raised his head, his blue eyes meeting her dark brown ones.

"Yes, Tess," he mumbled.

"You are not responsible for Willy Wonka's hormones, baby," she said firmly. "When you return to the factory tomorrow, all that you can do is try and let him know that something is not right with Felicity. But baby, don't try to save everyone's bacon, just leave Felicity to Sam, he's got a few centuries ahead of all of us on all of this. Contrary to what you may be thinking, he's good in situations of this kind."

Andrew nodded. "She's right, and perhaps the person you ought to speak with about this situation is Gertrude."

"Who?" Tess asked.

"She's sort of the acting manager in charge in the Inventing Room when Willy's not around, " Adam said.

"Yes, and she knows specifically what is going on in there. She was at the Bucket house earlier this evening and was trying to ask Clara to help her," Andrew said. "Clarence said that she knew everything that was going on there, and while she may not be all that keen on spreading gossip, she is probably one of very few people who can actually get Willy to listen to reason."

"But, she hasn't," Adam said. "Based on what I have been able to pick up, Gertrude knows that Jeremy Cooper is bad news, but Willy doesn't want to believe that he has hired someone…" His voice trailed off.

"…With the moral standards of a hungry mosquito at a barbeque," Tess finished and Sam turned and looked at her. As the surprise washed over his face, he shook his head disapprovingly. "Oh come now, Sam, you know that it was as good an analogy as any."

Sam relaxed, if but only a little. "Something has got to give," he grumbled. "No one can carry such a burden for such a long time. Even if she has Willy taking care of her, there has got to be something more that can be done for her."

"Sam," Adam looked at him, his blue eyes filled with worry. "Could Andrew or I be here in another capacity?"

"As far as I know, no, you both are now here to help with life, such as it is," the eldest of the four angels finished his juice. "I best be off, I should go by and see if Felicity is going to give me a chance to help her."

"Well," Adam mumbled. "From what we saw, her apartment could use some serious fixing up."

Sam looked at him. "You know, Adam, you may be on to something there. Now I know why I was sent to work at her building. I figured the Father probably sent me there to do more than just plant a few geraniums. At least the new building owners seemed rather insistent about fixing up the place."

"Is Willy still at her place, Sam?" Andrew asked, but after several seconds, his face took on a more pale shade. "I don't believe this…"

"…What is it, baby?" Tess asked. "You have barely touched your ginger ale."

"Sorry Tess, but I got word that Clara's gone to work today, and the Father wants me to go and talk to her," he said as he looked at Tess. "You got any spare sheets that need laundering?"

She nodded. "First you drink this ginger ale, and then we can get your sheets, Andrew. You angel babies need to keep up your strength."

Andrew nodded and drained the glass. "Alright Tess, I'm all done, just tell me where those sheets are. I've got work to do."

She nodded and pointed towards the doorway. "They're in the bin in the hall, Andrew. Tread lightly, Clara is a tough lady, and she's been through more these past weeks than any person could become accustomed to."

Andrew nodded and within seconds, he held the bundle of sheets and disappeared.

At the same instant, Sam looked at her. "You're always here to take care of us, aren't you, Tess?"

"Well, I know that you are older than me, Sam, but I suppose an old angel like me does not change her ways so easily," she said as she patted Sam's arm. "Go take care of Felicity, she's lucky to have you."

As soon as Sam was gone, Tess looked at Adam. He looked so downhearted that she could not think of anything to do except wrap a motherly arm around him.

When he felt this, Adam raised his head only briefly before looking back down at his orange juice. "Oh Tess," he whispered her name. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"No one blames you for this Adam," she said softly. "You are not at fault for what happened between Felicity and Willy. It was bound to happen. The two of them have held the torch for the other for about as long as she has been working for him. Neither of them ever said anything about it until now."

"I'm not sure, Tess," Adam confessed. "Sam said that they were both dealing with isolation issues and I honestly thought it was just hormones."

"No, they do love each other very much, but Felicity will destroy whatever may exist for them if she betrays him," Tess said softly. "Adam, you have to try and help Willy find a way to get Felicity to talk to him. If you cannot, then Jeremy will get his hands on Willy's most secret recipe and sell it to his most earnest competitor, Arthur Slugworth. This transaction involves an astronomical amount of money."

"But, it's not the money, Tess, whatever happens will completely destroy Willy, I just know it," Adam said softly.

Tess nodded. "Yes, you're right, it would."

"What are you going to try and do with Jeremy?" Adam asked. "He seems beyond help."

"Nothing in God's universe is beyond help, baby," Tess said. "I am going to do whatever I can to insure that that boy finds his conscience before it's too late."

"You mean, you're going to try and get him to confess to what he's been doing to Felicity?" Adam asked.

"That and the fact that when Richard Cooper was killed, he, himself came very close to raping her," Tess said. "Felicity is a very fragile person right now, but as long as she allows that wall of silence to consume her, then there is nothing that we can do to help her."

Adam took a deep breath. "In other words, this is far from being over."

Tess nodded as she poured him some more orange juice.


	14. Chapter 13: Moving On

_I appreciate all the reviews and hope that you will continue to enjoy this story._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 13: Moving On**

Clara Bucket handled Clarence's passing with the same stoicism that she was known for. That evening after her husband's body had been moved to the funeral home, she watched as her son returned to their tiny house and went straight to bed. This was before she left to go back to work at the laundry house. It was time for her to get on with life and try and continue with business as usual.

Of course, this had proven more difficult than she imagined. Standing in front of a wash bin alone and isolated from her family somehow gave her far too much time to think about everything that she had lost.

I should be home, she thought for the umpteenth time that evening, but something kept her from going back. Perhaps it was here where things were easier for her to cope with. Somehow, it was in this place where she could easily put a cork on her grief. At home, she feared that her parents and in-laws would see that she was completely devastated.

As the grief started to bubble up inside of her, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the still soft voice of her conscience. "Self control, Clara," she eventually whispered under her breath. "Clarence is gone, the only thing that remained were the constant reminders of what used to be."

As she dumped some sheets into a large steaming vat, she grabbed a long wooden utensil. It was about a meter and a half long, with a flat end like a spatula. She used it to stir the contents in the bin. As she silently stirred the contents, she could feel the steam from it wafting up and tickling her nose. She continued to absent-mindedly stir as her thoughts drifted about.

As she was remembering the first time she and Clarence had gone on a date, the door to the laundry house slowly opened and she raised her head to see a handsome man coming in. He walked the short distance from the door over to where she was standing. In his hands he held what looked to be more work. Internally, she groaned, but leaned the long object against the side of the vat before wiping her hands on a towel and walking over to him.

The first thing she noticed was that he was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, his long hair pulled back. He looked as though he was a handworker or someone who spent a great deal of time doing things like painting or fixing up. He looked a lot less demanding or confrontational than the other customers that she had somehow grown accustomed to seeing in this place. In fact, there was something rather peaceful in the man's manner, and somehow that made her feel a little bit better about having to work on that particular evening.

"Good evening," the man said in a friendly tone of voice as he brushed a lock of wavy blonde hair out from in front of his green eyes. Apparently, the lock of hair had escaped from the rubber band that confined the rest of his hair into a casual ponytail.

"Hello," Clara said as she allowed her hands to brush down over the front of her working dress, all the while eyeing the pile of linins that were draped over his arm. "Here, let me help you with that," she offered as she pulled the stack out of his arms and dropped it on a vacant table. Once both of their hands were freed up, she cast a glance towards the stack and then to him. "Now then, I take it you need these things laundered?"

"Yes, I was told that I needed to bring them here," he offered.

Clara nodded. "Of course, but I will need to tag these and get the name of the person the order is for." As she spoke, she dug in the pocket of her dress and extracted several silver colored safety pins. These had a dark red colored ribbon hanging from each one. Separating them, she handed one to him before affixing them to each one of the bed sheets that he had brought in.

Finishing this, she motioned to the damp object now resting in his hand. "This is your order identifier," she explained. "When you or someone you know comes to pick it up the order, the sheets will be identifiable through the color on this band."

"I understand," he said. "It's a clever idea."

"Thank you," she smiled weakly. "Now, is there a time stipulation on this? I mean; is this a rush job?"

"Well, we were hoping to have them by Saturday if that's not any trouble," He began. "You see, my name is Andrew and I work at the homeless shelter on Harrington Way. My friend who works there said that we've been told that a new group of residents will be coming to stay there starting Saturday evening. It's not imperative that they be done by then, but it would be immensely helpful." He cast a glance in the direction of the nearby bin that was already stacked high with crumpled up laundry. "Of course, I would understand if you had other things to contend with."

"I should be able to take care of it tomorrow if I can work through the day," she said honestly. "I'm sorry I cannot offer more specific details, but if you give me your number I'll ring you when your order is finished."

"It's no rush," he said as he studied her face a bit more closely. It looked drawn and his heart immediately went out to her. After several moments of silence passed between them, he spoke. "If you don't mind my asking, how long have you worked today? You look completely wiped out."

"Not long, I got here earlier this evening, and figure on working through to about one," she said as she sat back down on the stool next to the largest of the four bins. "It's no great inconvenience, I've just been having some very trying few days."

'Trying few days', Andrew thought ironically. I took her husband Home only today and she's back at work. He shook his head as the bell once more chimed thus indicating that someone else had opened the door and come inside.

As the other customer entered, Andrew turned and studied the face of the new arrival. He sighed deeply as the Father confirmed that the man now standing in the shop was Jeremy Cooper.

After closer study, the Angel of Death noticed that the man's lips were turned downward in a characteristic sneer as his gaze sought Clara's. The woman had backed up several steps as Jeremy began to dig around in his pocket for the claim ticket for his order.

Andrew watched as he retrieved a similar safety pin with blue colored ribbon and extended it to her.

Accepting the object, the woman's eyes darted from Andrew to Jeremy as she turned away with the intention of going into the back of the room to retrieve the order.

The second she was gone, Jeremy turned and looked at Andrew, his scowl deepening. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," Andrew responded, his voice completely level. He took a deep breath as he remembered the conversation in God's Country just before taking Clarence Home.

This was not going to be an easy situation for any of them, Andrew thought. Jeremy seems to think that he is above everyone else and his demeanor is not something that he necessarily wanted his new assignment exposed to, specifically since she had just lost her husband.

Feeling somewhat protective of the woman, he remained inside the small shop. I do not want to leave Clara alone with this man, he thought. Something tells me that he is not to be trusted. Without so much as speaking to the other man, Andrew leaned up against the wall and watched as Clara returned with Jeremy's laundry order.

As soon as she handed the small stack of shirts to him, the man shook his head before allowing the entire bundle to fall from his hands and land on the floor.

"I'm not paying for this," he snapped, the abrasiveness in his voice somehow indicating to Andrew that Jeremy was trying to get something for nothing.

Fearfully, Clara backed away from Jeremy as Andrew moved away from the wall and approached the two of them. He glanced down at the shirts, their whiteness shimmering in the dim light of the darkened room.

"Why not?" Andrew asked before Clara could so much as respond to the man's words.

"The shirts aren't ironed correctly," the man shot back in an almost practiced cadence.

"Do you want me to redo them?" Clara asked, her voice now taking on a meek sort of essence.

"That might be a start, for half price," Jeremy said. "Maybe it would teach you that if you're going to do a job that you should at least do it right."

"I can't offer half price on the service here," she said. "I could lose my job for that."

Andrew looked down at the shirt that was on the top of the stack. It was more than clear to him that Jeremy was trying to use whatever tactics he could think of push his weight around. Clara, being a grieving widow seemed a perfect target for him and this made Andrew's anger intensify. "I see nothing wrong with the job she has done on those shirts. It would seem to me that you have practiced this tactic," he said bluntly. "Those shirts look like new."

"This is none of your business," Jeremy shot back.

"Perhaps it's not, and you would hope that I would leave here so that you can talk down to this lady. Well, I'm not leaving, and I do know more about your moral standards than you think, Mr. Cooper," Andrew said assuredly.

It was rare for the angel to get angry, but at that precise moment, he was balling his fists up to keep himself from saying or doing something that might leave a negative impact on the two people standing in the room.

"How do you know my name?" The irate man asked.

"You work at Willy Wonka's factory," Andrew said nonchalantly. "My friend, Adam just started working there today and when he got off work, he told me some things about you. Let's just say that your disposition precedes you."

In response to this, Jeremy snatched the pile of clothing out of Andrew's hands and stormed out of the shop.

Once he was gone the angel looked at the woman standing in front of the bin. "He didn't pay for the work," she mused with an unhappy sigh. "This is simply not my day."

"How much would it have been?" Andrew asked.

She consulted the order slip. "Three pounds seventy-five," she said. "I guess that will have to come out of my wages."

"No it won't, just let me take care of it, since I was the one that got him hot under the collar in the first place," Andrew offered. "There's really no point to you losing your job over pocket change."

"That's hardly pocket change to me," Clara said with a sigh. "But thank you, Andrew. I will inform my boss of this man and perhaps we can insure that he isn't allowed in here again. To be honest, I'm going to refuse to do any further orders for him."

"Perhaps that's not a bad idea," he said simply as he handed her the money. "Like I said, Jeremy Cooper is not the nicest man around."

"Jeremy Cooper," Clara mused as she shook her head.

"You know of him?" He asked.

"Yes, unfortunately I have heard tell of him," she said with a nod. Pressing her hand against her forehead, she allowed her fingers to rake through her hair. "My husband used to work at the factory, and I can well imagine that Mr. Wonka gave your friend the job after Clarence's ended after he was deemed medically unfit to work."

Andrew rested his hand on her shoulder. "What's your name?" He asked. He did not add that he already knew it, but figured that it was perhaps the best way to begin a casual friendship with her. After all, this was part of the human socialization and since he did not wish to reveal his being an angel just yet.

"Clara Bucket," she said.

Instead of waiting for Andrew to respond, all that she was able to remember was what Gertrude had told her about Felicity earlier that day. It seemed clear that this man knew precisely what was going on. After several seconds had passed, she looked at him. "Andrew, I think you should be careful."

"Why?" He asked.

"Because if that man is anything like what I have been told, then it might be a good idea for you to watch your back," she said with a vague tone in her voice.

The angel nodded, but he was determined that instead of watching his own back, he was going to be watching Clara's.

* * *

At about the same time Andrew was talking with Clara, Willy had gotten up to leave Felicity's apartment. He still had not managed to get her to speak openly to him about what had been happening at work, but there was now a determination in him to snoop about and find out whatever he could.

It was no secret that the young woman was still quite fragile, her entire stance reminding him of the old adage of a storybook damsel in distress.

Brushing his hand through his curly hair, he regarded her as they both stood in the open doorway. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked her.

"I think so," she whispered, but offered him a brave smile. "Thank you for coming."

He leaned down and cupped her face gently in his hands. "It was my pleasure, dearest lady. I am so very glad that I took a chance and did this."

Felicity looked into the depths of his blue eyes. "I am too," she whispered as she felt him drawing her comfortingly into his embrace, the soft feel of his fingers now moving until they cradled against the back of her neck. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before withdrawing and leaving the apartment.

Once he was gone, she closed and locked the door.

What am I going to do now? She asked herself as she slowly walked over to the sofa. I have to keep Jeremy from finding out about this. If he even hears that I am in love with our boss, then there is no telling what he'll force me to do.

Seconds later, someone tapped lightly on the door and she turned towards the door. "Willy, is that you?" She spoke, but when no one responded, she got to her feet and slowly made her way over towards the door.

Opening it, she found herself looking up into the dark eyes of Sam. He was still dressed in the overalls, but he seemed to be regarding her with all the concern of a grandfather or protective uncle. "Yes?" She asked as she looked at the angel standing in her doorway.

"I wanted to stop and see if you were alright," Sam said. "There was someone here earlier who was looking for you – a curly headed gentleman."

"Yes, he was already here and just left," she nodded. "Y-you were the person who let him in?"

"Yes, well, he seemed concerned for you and I figured that it might help," he said nodding slowly as he regarded her. "You see, Felicity, I am a bit concerned as well. After you left the front garden, I was thinking about what you said."

"What I said?" She asked.

"Yes, about considering yourself a weed in God's garden."

Felicity took a deep breath. "I guess I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me," he said honestly. "I would simply hope that you would reconsider that notion about yourself and realize that you are special."

"That's hard for me to do, Sam," she said.

"Perhaps, but regardless of how you see yourself, there is someone who loves you and who would wish for you to see yourself as more than just a weed," he said.

"Willy?" She whispered the chocolatier's name. "He really does."

Before Sam could object, the young woman yawned. As she covered her mouth with her hands, she allowed herself to finish before speaking. "I should let you go, I need to get some sleep."

"Of course," he said. "Good night, Felicity."

"Good night, Sam."

As the door closed, the angel took a deep breath. "Father, what do I do now? Every time I try to reach her, she closes the door in my face."

"She's not closing the door to you, Sam, she's closing it to Me. Don't give up on her, too many people already have. This is why her self-image is so low." the Father's voice resonated in his heart.

With a defeated nod, Sam retreated back to his apartment.


	15. Chapter 14: Morning Sun

_I am grateful to all my reviewers for their continued support._ _Enjoy and please review, they are really helpful and motivational to boot. _

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 14: Morning Sun**

By the following morning, the news of Clarence Bucket's tragic passing had filled the corridors of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Every worker seemed to be talking about nothing else and rumors about the Bucket family's situation did not cease. No matter where one went inside the behemoth sized structure, the conversations and dialogues were centered on the loss that had encompassed the workers in the most secret place of the entire factory.

The Inventing Room was abuzz with activity that morning when Willy had arrived at the large gray colored room. Everyone there seemed to be speaking of the very same thing. Things were now in such a state that all one was capable of doing was to ask how this particular family would manage to get along on their own before they started to show the overt signs of malnutrition.

Willy Wonka's thoughts that morning were consumed with these very same questions. He wanted to help the family, but their unwillingness to accept his charity made it all the more difficult. He had known of their young son, and guessed that the child he had encountered at the church yard was the youngest member of that particular family.

The answers to his questions that day had affirmed that tenfold.

As the workers were arriving for the morning briefing, Willy could not help but notice that the only one who seemed disinterested in the family's plight was Jeremy Cooper. Instead of gathering with the other workers and speaking of the events of the previous day, he had gone off by himself.

Willy stayed in the room long after Gertrude had arrived and started filling the other workers in on what had happened. She seemed to know everything and her behavior was indicative that she was overwhelmed by the series of events. It stood to reason, as he knew that she had been friends with him and his family for a number of years. "Has anyone seen Felicity?" She eventually asked the group of workers, the tired undertones of her voice now filling the room.

When the group shook his or her head, she cast a glance towards Willy, who was still standing there, his blue eyed gaze darting from here to there and back again. Finally, she looked at Adam, who was standing off to one side of the group, but had not distanced himself from them in the manner that Jeremy had done.

Eventually, she glanced back over towards Willy. It was strange that no one in the room seemed to even know where the young woman had disappeared off to.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday when we got off work," Mary offered honestly. "She's seemed a bit out of sorts during these past few days if you ask me."

Gertrude nodded, but cast a glance over to where Jeremy was standing and fiddling about with the buttons on one of the machines. Feeling some strange hostility building, she regarded the man. "Jeremy, would you be so kind as to join us over here for the briefing?" She called out to him and watched as he turned around.

From the look that shadowed the man's face, it seemed abundantly clear that he did not like being talked to in this way by anyone, specifically a woman.

Seconds later, he slowly eased his way over to the group, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Gertrude. Not allowing him to intimidate her, she took a deep breath and began to speak to the group. Her words drifting from the events of the day before to the work that would need to be done.

As the briefing wound down some ten minutes later, Felicity still had not made an appearance, and instead of being angry at the youngest member of the team, worry shadowed her aged face. Without commenting on this, she waved her hands, thus dismissing the group. The only people who remained standing next to her were Adam and Willy.

She took a deep breath as she regarded her boss, her concern now ebbing over. "It's not like Felicity to miss a morning briefing," she remarked.

Willy shook his head, concern also shadowing his face. "Perhaps not, but does anyone know if she's gotten in yet?"

"I saw her just before nine," Adam said. Without thinking the angel cast a glance over towards the door and watched as it opened.

Felicity, as if on cue, walked into the room and allowed the door to close behind her. Her expression looked to be tired, her eyes half closed and her mouth an unreadable straight line.

Willy, without thinking about his actions, walked over to her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice detectable to every person in the room.

The young woman nodded as Willy gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze before leaving the Inventing Room.

For his part, Adam watched a sly smirk shadowed Jeremy's face. This is not good, he thought as a tremor cursed through him. Now that his assignment was showing overt interest in the youngest member of this group, the angel knew that this situation was far from being over.

Instead of speaking, Adam made his way across the room and over to the machine where he was supposed to work. His thoughts constantly shifted back to Felicity, who had, by this time, seated herself at her station. It was clear that the young woman still seemed to carry herself with the very same insecurity that she had the day before.

He watched as her eyes darted around the room, her overall stance somehow reminding him of an ant that was about to be squashed by an elephant. Taking a deep breath, he left his workplace and walked over to where she was seated.

Gertrude, seeing his actions, also crossed the room to where Felicity was. It seemed clear that the older woman was not just thinking about Clarence's death anymore, but she was concerned for the state of things in their workplace.

At that moment, Adam felt a sense of being torn as he pondered who specifically needed his attention the most. Was it Willy, who was supposed to be his assignment in the first place, or Felicity, who was in some unspeakable trouble? Finally, his thoughts momentarily shifted to Gertrude, who although grieving a loss, was trying to be brave despite it.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the elder of the two. "Are you sure you're alright, Gertrude?" He asked, thus trusting his impulse to speak with her.

"I will have to be," she responded bravely. "There is so much here that needs my attention that I can't really find the time to stop and think about it."

From what Andrew talked about last night at the halfway house, she's behaving just like Clara, Adam thought as he watched Felicity sit down at the nearby table and rest her elbows on it.

"I heard about Clarence last night," Adam said. "I was very sorry to hear that he had passed on."

"He's in a better place," Gertrude said as she patted his hand with one of hers as though trying to offer her own brand of comfort to him. "Yet, we'll all still miss him nonetheless."

"He was the person whose job I'm now doing, correct?" The angel asked softly.

"Yes, but as you probably know, your job is a necessary one," she said. "It's strange, but I can always recall how Clarence always had a way of keeping things on the up and up around here. His optimism is what should never be forgotten. Isn't that right, Felicity?"

The young woman nodded. "I guess," she whispered, her thoughts clearly a thousand miles away.

"Felicity, is something the matter?" Gertrude now asked. This time practically repeating Willy's earlier question word for word.

"N-no, I'm fine," the young woman whispered, but instead of elaborating on anything, she slowly got to her feet. "Excuse me please," she whispered as she walked slowly away.

As soon as she was gone, Gertrude looked at Adam. "You know, when it rains, it pours. Between what has been happening with Clarence, and now that girl, I am at my wits end here."

"Have you cried?" Adam asked softly.

"There's too much that needs to be done. I can't just sit down and start crying," she said. "Besides, if I did, then I would probably not know when to stop."

"Maybe that's what you need, to grieve the friend you lost," Adam said as he pointed at the small six-pointed star that hung from a chain around her neck. "There's nothing wrong with faith, Gertrude, but even the most faithful person sometimes needs to cry. It cleanses the spirit."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

Adam nodded, but watched as the woman slowly walked away, her steps brusque and hurried.

Seconds later, he felt a presence behind him and turned to see that Sam was standing right next to him, the elder of the angels completely invisible to anyone else in the room. "Adam, I don't mean to get onto you, but you need to go find Felicity right now, she's in trouble."

"But she was just here a few minutes ago," Adam whispered.

Sam shook his head. "I know that, but now she's in the break room alone with Jeremy. You have to do something now or else Henry will be put on this case."

Adam took a deep breath upon hearing the name of another Angel of Death being dropped. Instead, without so much as uttering a sound, he left the room and took off down the hall in the direction of the specified room. This case is quickly turning into one big disaster after another.

* * *

At that precise moment, Felicity was trapped in the break room. It was the same room that she had been in with him the day before when he had come in and threatened her. Now the man's gaze was regarding her with leering hostility. As he came closer to her, his body resembled a battering ram as he blocked her way towards the door.

Reaching out he grabbed one side of her face, his fingers bruising the flesh as he jerked her towards him. "I want that recipe, you little whore," he sneered, his voice filling her ears as he pulled her even closer.

"I need time," she whimpered as she tried to back away from him. When she couldn't, she could feel his fingers as they lowered and wound their way around her neck. As they lingered there, she could feel herself beginning to gasp, her hands raising and trying to get herself away from his hold. "I…can't…breathe…" she managed to gasp.

"I don't care," he said evenly. "If you don't do as I say, then Willy Wonka will lose a hell of a lot more than just a measly recipe." At that moment, he tightened his hold on her. "Now, you utter so much as a word of this to anyone, and you'll rot in jail for my poor brother's murder."

With that, he practically threw her to the floor in disdain.

Casting a final glance back at her, he left the room, her body now on the floor and she was gasping for air. "I should tell him," she whimpered softly to herself, her breathing still uneven as she touched the area around her neck and felt the bruised skin where Jeremy's fingers had been pressed.

Closing her eyes, she tried without much success to keep from crying.

At that moment and much to her surprise, a pair of arms wound their way around her and gently pulled her off the floor. "It's alright, Felicity, you're not alone."

She raised her head, but instead of looking into Willy's familiar blue eyes, she was now looking into Adam's concerned face. "I-I fell," she whispered.

He shook his head. "You didn't fall, what happened was Jeremy, I saw what he was doing to you. He was trying to strangle you."

"It's n-nothing," she whispered.

"Nothing is a stumped toe, but this is not nothing," Adam said firmly. "Come on, I'm going to take you to Mr. Wonka's office, I think we both need to inform him of what has been happening under his roof. He needs to know that there is someone with abusive tendencies in his employ and that you are getting hurt because of it."

"I can't," she pleaded.

"Why not?" Adam asked. "Felicity, what he is doing to you is so wrong. This sort of thing should not be happening and you most definitely should not be contending with it alone. It's as though he's holding something over you and if you don't do as he says, then he will kill you."

"I deserve it," she whispered.

"No, you don't," Adam said. "Tell me what happened. If you can't talk to Mr. Wonka, then at least talk to me. You can't go through much more of this. You're a nervous breakdown waiting to happen. It's so obvious."

"Adam, I can't tell him," she whispered.

"Tell who?" Adam asked. Instead of speaking further, he helped the younger woman to sit down at the table.

"Willy," she whispered, her head lowered as her arms wrapped their way around her body and she trembled. "I love him."

"I know, I could tell," he said.

This time, she raised her head and looked at him. "How."

"Through what you said about Willy Wonka, but also about the concern, it's a sign of caring – of love," Adam said. "But, you must know that I did hear what Jeremy said, and I know what he's after."

"You couldn't possibly," she objected.

"I do and I also know that if you give it to him, you will not only destroy another man's existence, but you will in essence destroy your own," Adam said. When looked away, he rested his hand on her shoulder, thus making her turn back around. "Look, Felicity, I want to help you both, but I can't if you don't talk to me. Tell me how you got mixed up with someone like Jeremy Cooper."

She closed her eyes and felt tears stinging from beneath her eyelids. Shaking her head, she started to get to her feet and back her way towards the door.


	16. Chapter 15: Walls Tearing Down

_I am totally amazed with how many people are reading this. Your reviews mean a great deal to me and all I can say is, thanks._

_Enjoy. Jennionthisside, I took care of the problems, thanks for catching them._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 15: Walls Tearing Down**

Adam started to get to his feet, but watched as Felicity headed towards the door, her body somehow collapsing against the sturdiness of it. As her steady breathing becoming more ragged, he reached where she was slumped against the wall and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You cannot keep up this charade, if you don't tell someone what is going on, you will suffer far more than any human being should," he said gently. "Now, come and sit down and tell me what is going on."

Nodding, she reluctantly allowed him to help her back over to the table. Once she reached it, she allowed her body to collapse into one of the chairs. "I suppose I should tell someone, but please you cannot utter a word of this to Willy – I-I mean, Mr. Wonka."

"Of course you realize that he's going to want to know anyway," Adam said. "You know, Felicity, I can tell that he cares for you."

"I think he'd be better off just hating me," she whispered.

"Why do you say that?" Adam whispered as he leaned over and studied her face more closely. Seeing the overt signs of abuse that shadowed it, he took a deep breath. "He's not gong to hate you for being honest with him. He might actually be able to help you out of a horrid situation if you trust him enough to confide in him. He's a good man and I think you know that I speak the truth."

"The problem is there's no one who can help me," she whispered.

"Maybe they could if you would let them," Adam shot back, his voice sounding much harsher than he intended. "Felicity, I know that there are people here who have tried to help you. There have been more of them than you realize, but this issue is not going to disappear simply because you refuse to talk about it. It will only get worse and you could end up dragging Willy Wonka right into the middle of it. That's not true friendship nor is it a sign of caring, that's just being selfish and egotistical." His words out, he took a deep breath as he continued, his tone of voice once again lowered. "If this man really loves you, and I have no doubt that he does, then why can't you just trust him enough to tell him what is going on?"

"Because I'm afraid to, alright?" She cried out with traces of hostile dejection in her voice. "I am not a perfect person, and no matter what you tell me, the world is not an ideal place. I have to survive from day to day hoping that no one would ever find out or discover the horrible things I have done. I cannot change my past, but there is something that Jeremy knows, and he's holding them over my head. He has been ever since the first day he walked through the door here."

"What is he holding over you?" Adam asked. "Just tell me, the truth will set you free." Of course the Angel of Death already knew the painful things she was harboring, but he knew that she needed to speak of them herself. Through that, she would learn that there were people who would be there for her. Yet, something was blocking her from doing so.

Felicity raised her head for what seemed like the umpteenth time. "Jeremy said that I murdered his brother and that he saw me do it," she whispered more to herself as the tears began to tumble down over her cheeks. "But, I don't remember anything that happened the night Richard died. I have no memory and Jeremy's the only person who does."

As these words hung over the room, she closed her eyes.

It seemed clear that she was relieved at having confessed the truth, but she was still not certain as to whether or not she could trust this man. Now she knew that she had to because he knew and could choose between supporting her, or ringing the police.

Silence descended as Adam inched his way closer to where she was seated. With one arm, he wrapped it gently around her trembling form. As he pulled her into a half embrace, he spoke. "Do you believe that you are capable of such a heinous act, Felicity?"

"I don't know," she whispered softly. "I don't remember anything that happened that night. I mean, it's nothing more than just a hazy series of events. I woke up the following morning with a migraine headache and wanted nothing more than to run away. So I did, and eventually, I found myself here. I wasn't sure if I was even safe, but I figured on staying after I managed to get this job and…"

"…now you're being oppressed," Adam finished.

Dully the frightened woman nodded. "I don't know what to do and now the worst thing is I think I'm in love."

"That's the worst thing?" He asked.

"No, yes…oh I don't know," she whispered. "I do love him, but I also think he could do better."

"Maybe not," Adam said gently. "Listen, Felicity, you want out of this situation, correct?"

She nodded.

"Then perhaps you should start by telling Mr. Wonka what specifically has been happening around here. Just tell him what Jeremy is doing to you. If he knows the truth about you, then Jeremy cannot oppress you any longer and you mustn't resort to some crazed form of slavery to keep yourself pure in the eyes of another."

"I can't tell him. Adam," she whispered. "I mean; I don't remember a single thing that happened that night. I just recall seeing Richard's blood everywhere and…" she whispered, her voice trailing off.

"Let me ask you something about that," Adam began as Andrew appeared and began to silently listen to the dialogue between them. "If what you said about this is true, about not being able to remember the events of that night, then why is it that you only remember seeing the blood?"

As he was raising this question, Andrew approached where they were now seated and he regarding the broken woman through sympathetic green eyes. "Adam, there was no blood that night. Whatever she is recalling, it is entirely a contorted mess of images and ideals that Jeremy has basically programmed her into believe."

Nodding, Adam waited for her to respond, but before she could, the door opened and Jeremy came into the room. Andrew looked at his colleague as he turned around and saw the man who had just joined them.

"Stay calm," he urged his friend. "Make certain she stays calm."

Adam nodded, but waited for Jeremy to speak. When he finally did, his words came in almost the form of an announcement. "Adam, Mr. Wonka said that he needs you back in the Inventing Room."

Unconsciously, the elder of the two angels arched a disbelieving eyebrow as he looked at the man, his expression grim, but unreadable. "Would you ask him to come here instead? I think this young lady is ill and perhaps could require the services of a physician."

"Ill?" Jeremy whispered sardonically, but backed his way towards the door as the realization hit him that Adam did not even budge. "It must have been something she ate."

"Whatever it was, Jeremy, I will not be leaving her side, so you'll have to go and cover for me in the Inventing Room," Adam said, his words laced in meaningful undertones. "If Mr. Wonka requires my attention for anything, then I'm afraid he's going to have to wait."

Felicity watched in surprise as the new worker basically stood up and regarded her tormentor through calm blue gray colored eyes. Now, upon seeing the leering look that crossed Jeremy's face, Felicity could not help but wonder if this was such a good idea after all. Jeremy would eventually find her alone and when he did, then it was going to be all the more difficult for her.

For his part, Jeremy simply nodded. He knew that he was not going to win any brownie points with Adam, and eventually, he started to back his way towards the door. "I hope he fires you for this insubordination," he grumbled as he slinked out of the room and allowed the door to fall closed behind him.

Once he was gone, Felicity looked at the angel. "But, Adam, if Mr. Wonka needed you, then you should have gone to see him."

The angel shook his head. "I don't think Mr. Wonka needed me for anything, Jeremy was trying to get me out of here so he could take advantage of you again." He looked at Andrew, who simply nodded. As the affirmation hung in the air, he took a deep breath and continued speaking. "Now then, I'm going to take you to see Mr. Wonka, and I will hope that you will at least tell him some of what you told me."

Neither affirming or denying his words, Felicity reluctantly stood up and allowed him to lead her from the room.

* * *

At that same moment, Willy was sitting in his office looking over the monthly profit margins. He was still holding his own against Slugworth, his most earnest business competitor, but it was not by much and he was convinced that there was something wrong. The devotion of his workers had started to taper off. The last company picnic had seen a twenty percent decline, and now since Clarence Bucket's death, the morale of his workers was teetering towards oblivion.

Gertrude had told him time and again that part of their disgruntled manner had to do with Jeremy Cooper, but ever since he began to work at the factory, he had been nothing but hard working and nice. Of course, his productivity had paralleled Gertrude's words and he wondered if this was rationale for his issuing a pink slip.

Strangely enough, amidst all of these events, Clarence Bucket had given Jeremy a fairly good recommendation for a project they had collaborated on just before the old manager had taken ill and was deemed unable to work.

So many questions seemed to tumble about the confectioner's head. Stories and rumors had left the overall factory in a state of disarray. For some reason, the overall feel of it had somehow tapered off.

As he sat and stared at the jumbled numbers that were on the file on his desk, the phone chimed and he reached over and picked it up. "Wonka Industries."

"Is this Willy?" A familiar voice emerged over the line. "How are you doing, my boy?"

Hearing this caused Willy to come very close to dropping the telephone receiver on the desk. Of all the times for his old mentor to be ringing him, this was the most ideal time. He took a deep breath and spoke. "Uncle Dudley, is that you?"

"You bet it is. Your sense of hearing seems to be as healthy as your sense of taste, Willy." Came the answer.

"Not really, I'm deaf in my right ear," Willy said, but before the other confectioner could respond or inquire about that, he continued speaking. "It was an old school yard prank, a guy blared a trumpet into my ear and shattered the eardrum." He paused. "So, how did you get my number anyway?"

A soft chuckle emerged. "It was at the last candy makers convention. We exchanged numbers and I told you that if you were ever in North America, you'd come to 'Taffy Town' and try out my latest and greatest invention. Or have you forgotten?"

"Oh, I remember, but work has been rather intense these days and it slipped my mind," Willy said. "Did you ever get the 'Raspberry Rebeliscious' recipe perfected? At the convention you said that you were about this close to perfecting it." He held up his thumb and index finger, all the while knowing that his friend could not see his actions. After a second, he lowered his free hand and waited for an answer.

"Already done it, and the patent has been applied for, approved, and I'm in the process of sending out my third shipment this week."

"Congratulations," Willy said.

"Thank you, but now I've moved on to the 'Blueberry and Old Shoe Leather' idea, but still haven't gotten it quite right yet. Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't real shoe leather we're talking about. I invented this new caramel coating that works famously with the flavors of blueberry and citrus lime. Of course the missus said that it looks strikingly like shoe leather, thus the name." He explained. "So, all that aside, how have you been doing Willy?"

"Pretty good, still working to keep the figures and the candy lines ahead of Slugworth and company. I also just hired one of your old workers this week. A fellow by the name of Adam Engel, you remember him?" He said.

"Yes, I do. He's a really nice guy and a darn good worker," Uncle Dudley affirmed.

"Yes, well, it's only been a few days, but so far things are going pretty well."

"Adam Engel, he's a strange fellow, in fact, there's something very wise and eccentric about him. At any rate, I'd keep him around if I were you," Uncle Dudley said with laughter in his voice. "You can't really go wrong with that sort of intuition."

"So I've heard," Willy said. "Listen, I need your advice about something."

"I'm all ears." Came the immediate response.

Willy smiled and nodded, thus taking this an open invitation to confide his worries in his friend. "I know that you have always told me that I should trust my instincts about things, and I do, but lately things aren't going very well and I'm rather at a loss," Willy said as he cast a glance towards the door.

"Have you prayed about it?" Uncle Dudley asked directly.

"Prayed?" Willy asked. "No, actually I haven't. I've never been very good about stuff like that."

"It helps, perhaps not God, but it does help you, Willy," the other confectioner said firmly. "Just don't write this off as the ramblings of a crazy old man. I know how youngsters are always trying to overwork themselves and seeing only the paperwork as having the answers. Sometimes, the simplest things; a prayer, a kind word, or a listening ear, are the best things. Sounds simple, but it is extremely effective."

"Perhaps," he mused as someone tapped lightly on the door. "Speaking of listening, I should go, someone just stopped by and I do have to finish my shipping schedules."

"Take care, my boy, and contrary to what it is you decide to do, I'll be praying for you," Uncle Dudley said. With that, the phone line went dead.

Willy smiled slightly. "That man's faith amazes me," he muttered under his breath as he turned his attention back towards the door. "Come in!"

The door opened and he could see that Adam and Felicity were standing in the doorway. He stood up as Adam addressed him. "Mr. Wonka, I mean, Willy, we need to talk to you."

The candy maker nodded as he waved his arm, thus indicating that they should come inside. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, first of all, Jeremy Cooper said you needed to see me," Adam began.

"That's news to me," Willy said. "But, since you're both here, come and sit down."

Adam accepted the offer, but motioned towards the young woman, who merely raised and lowered her head in acknowledgement of his words. When no words emerged from her, Willy immediately walked over to where she was standing.

Reaching her, and without thinking about what he was doing, he took her face in both hands and tipped it up so that she was looking into his concerned blue eyes. "My dear lady, what has happened to you?"

When he moved his hand away, her head sank back into its earlier position. It looked as though she was about to start crying, but no sounds actually emerged from her. She did not even acknowledge his question.

It was at that moment that he noticed how her face was covered with red blotches. "Adam, would you mind telling me what is going on?" He asked.

"Jeremy Cooper is what happened," Adam said softly. "I came to the break room this morning and found her sitting on the ground crying. She looked as though she had been beat up and I managed to coax it out of her that Jeremy has been oppressing her."

"Oppressing you?" Willy asked as he gingerly touched her various places on her face. He was not certain as to what he was looking for, but when she unconsciously cringed, he withdrew his hand. Taking a deep breath, he studied her face somewhat closer and discovered the start of a bruise against her jaw-line. "Who did this to you?"

She shook her head. "I fell," she said, the soft sounding lie filling the room.

This time, Willy arched and eyebrow.

"Felicity, you have to tell him what happened," Adam said. "You will not be freed from this burden until you do."

She raised her head and swallowed as the next words emerged from her. "It was Jeremy," she whispered helplessly. "H-he cornered me in the break room…"

As her words faded, Willy looked at Adam. "I want you to bring Jeremy Cooper here in the next ten minutes." He turned to Felicity. "As for you, you're going to disappear for a while. I will not tolerate women getting beat up by bullies inside my factory."

Adam nodded. "Willy, you need to be careful, none of us know what Jeremy is capable of."

"I can take care of myself, Adam, now go and bring him to my office," he instructed and watched as Adam left.

Turning his attention back to Felicity, he smiled gently at her. "I'm taking you to my quarters for the time being. You'll be safe there, I assure you."

She nodded and felt him leading her towards sliding door that gave way to reveal the Great Glass Wonkavator.


	17. Chapter 16: The Paper

_Onlyaman, I found the correction and fixed it. Thanks for the heads up. I also corrected the punctuation error, thanks Victory Starr for catching that. Welcome back to the story._

_Edited January 14, 2009.

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**Chapter 16: The Paper**

When Adam reached the Inventing Room, there was evident confusion lining his face. Instead of speaking of this, he allowed his gaze to scan its way across the large room. It did not take him very long to find the other man. Jeremy was standing next to a machine that was clearly not the one was he was assigned to work with. His intimidating frame was lurched over the side of it and it looked as though he was trying to fit the proverbial square peg into the round whole.

From this stance alone, Adam could only surmise that something was simply not right. In fact, it clearly looked as though Jeremy had resorted to sabotage and frame ups. Somehow, Adam could instinctively tell that Jeremy was suspicious of Willy closing in on him.

Adam's attention momentarily shifted back to the machine. It was at this moment that he noticed that the lights were beeping in an uneven rhythm. Even the sounds that resonated from it were uncharacteristic for that particular device. To the not so experienced Angel of Death turned Caseworker, it looked as though the large object was struggling to keep up with the tasks to which it was programmed. This, if anything, was a telltale sign that something was simply not right.

Apparently, Adam was not the only one who was taking not of what was happening.

In the far corner of the room, Gertrude stood watching and making note of the strange activities that were taking place in her midst.

As soon as the older woman spotted Adam, she adjusted the shawl that she was wearing and made her way over to where he was standing.

Coming closer, her eyebrows arched somewhat as she continued to watch Jeremy, but a watery smile soon replaced that as she neared her way over to where Adam was standing.

Her body language was a clear indicator that she did not like what was happening in Willy Wonka's factory. The older woman's arms were soon crossed over her chest and she reached Adam and stared blankly across the room at what the younger man was doing.

"Adam, I'm worried," she offered as a greeting.

"Why?" He asked.

"Jeremy's been standing over there ever since this morning's briefing happened. I know that you didn't notice it because you just came back, but something's not right. I think the others sense it too, but they don't feel right in discussing it."

Adam nodded as he turned and faced her. "I noticed that there was an element of contention between Jeremy and just about everyone here."

"It's not hard to see," Gertrude whispered. "The problem is, whenever Mr. Wonka is in here, Jeremy acts as though he is the nicest person in the world. But, it's all a façade, and you see it, and I see it, but Mr. Wonka is such a kind-hearted person that he refuses to see it."

"What about Clarence Bucket?" Adam asked.

"He knew everything that was going on," Gertrude said. "He was such a good judge of character. He got along with everyone…"

"…Except Jeremy Cooper," Adam finished.

"Yes," Gertrude said. "The thing is, I think Clarence knew something that could have been very damaging to Jeremy, but that sadly has gone to the grave with him."

"Does anyone here know how Felicity fits into this mess?" Adam asked.

Gertrude shook her head. "No, but I've seen the way she looks at both Jeremy and Mr. Wonka. She's positively terrified of Jeremy, but it seems that she really fancies Mr. Wonka. I would never be so presumptuous to say such a thing, but I am a woman and I do see it." She smiled slightly. "Actually, I do think that Mr. Wonka is an extremely attractive man, and he does deserve to find someone who will make him happy."

"Yet, you ponder if Felicity Jacobs is the person who will manage that," Adam said.

"Yes, I think that generally, Felicity is a very nice girl. For the most part, she's responsible and hard working. During the past few days, she has missed countless meetings and briefings. When she has been here, I started to notice that she's more or less preoccupied…" Her voice trailed and she took a deep breath. "…I fear for her job."

"I wouldn't worry too much about her," Adam said softly. "I am under the impression that Mr. Wonka already knows that something has happened and he will made certain that Felicity is not in too much trouble. After all, as long as he knows that she is doing a good job here, then perhaps he will reach the conclusion that Jeremy means her nothing good." He paused for a moment as he took a deep inhalation of breath. "I don't think that Jeremy realizes that Mr. Wonka is on to him and he has sent me here to bring Jeremy to his office so that he may talk to him."

"Do you think that Mr. Wonka will fire him?" Gertrude asked.

"Perhaps, but something tells me that this action is going to reap some sort of consequence, and very soon."

Gertrude shrugged her shoulders as Adam looked across the room and spoke, this time his voice somewhat louder in pitch as well as laced with a trace of attitude. "Jeremy, Mr. Wonka would like to see you in his office."

Abruptly, Jeremy turned around as a menacing gleam shadowed its way across his face. From that stance alone, it was quite difficult to infer whether or not the man was thinking that he was in trouble for something.

He started to make his way over towards Adam, but no one knew or could even surmise what the man was about to say. Instead of speaking, he walked past them and left the room without so much as a 'thank you', or 'see you later'.

Adam turned to face Gertrude once the man had left the Inventing Room. "I'll let you know what happened when I get back."

The older woman shook her head. "It will have to be tomorrow, I'm afraid. I'm about to get off work and go to Clarence Bucket's funeral. Perhaps we can meet before work tomorrow so that we can discuss this further."

Adam nodded and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he started to make his way out of the room and down the hall in the direction that Jeremy was going. Once he had cleared the room, the thick door lightly closed behind him.

As soon as he was alone in the corridor, Sam suddenly appeared, the dark eyes of the angel meeting Adam's. His mouth was turned down in an expression of utter sadness. "You need to hurry, Adam, things are about to take a turn for the worse, and Willy's going to need all the friends he can get."

"What is happening with Felicity?" Adam asked.

"That's where it will be getting complicating. I have been watching over her since early this morning. Felicity is in Willy's private rooms right now and she is about meet the biggest crossroad of her entire life."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked as he cast a wary glance around where they were walking. He wanted to make sure that since he was in human form that his co-workers did not see him walking the corridors of the factory talking to himself.

When he noticed that no one was around and could not see what he was doing, he took a deep breath, but waited for Sam to respond to his inquiry.

"She is about to find the recipe for one of Willy's most secret and prized confections," Sam said softly. "I cannot tell you what will happen, but I am almost certain that you can imagine what thoughts might be going through her mind if she realizes what it is she has found. After all, it is through the acts of desperation that humans make the most traumatic and difficult choices of their lives, and perhaps Felicity believes that this might solve all of her problems."

"But it won't," Adam whispered. "It could very well destroy everything for all parties involved.

Sam nodded as the two angels silently made their way down the hall. When they reached Willy's office, the elder of the two angels spoke. "I should get back to Felicity," he said. "Of course, as you know, there is not a great deal I can do for her."

"Free will," Adam mused more to himself than to his angelic friend. "Sometimes I really wish there was such a thing as predestination."

"If that was the case, Adam, then we would be out of a job," Sam nudged him. "I've heard you say that before, and for some reason, I get the impression that you really don't believe that."

"Maybe not," Adam mumbled, but opted to change the subject. "Has Willy gotten back yet?"

"No and from what I understand, he's presently with Felicity," Sam said. "He should be back very soon, though."

"I guess all I can do is wait," Adam mused.

"Patience is a virtue," Sam chuckled.

"Are you saying that I'm not very virtuous angel, Sam?" Adam quipped.

In response to this, Sam simply wagged his finger half jokingly at Adam before disappearing. Once the supervisor was gone, Adam felt a small, albeit unconvincing, smile abruptly cross his face.

Seconds later, he heard the sound of a crash coming from the otherwise quiet recesses of the office. Slowly, he opened the door and peered around it. As he took in what was going on inside the room, his eyes widened in shock as he stared.

Jeremy Cooper was standing at the desk and digging through the various piles of papers that cluttered the surface of it. Adam watched as the younger man callously dug his way through the cabinets thus leaving them in an ungodly state.

Various pieces of paper fell from the desk, their presence completely ignored.

Perhaps the issue of temptation was not only one that rested on Felicity's shoulders, but instead, was one that cast an unmistakable shadow of doubt around Jeremy Cooper. From the looks of things, this young man seemed to not care at all about what he was doing. He was trying to find whatever he could that might prove a boost to his personal finances.

This is not good, Adam thought all the while his thoughts practically willing Willy to return to the office, and quickly.

* * *

At that moment, on the other side of the factory, Willy Wonka was bringing a noticeably nervous and jittery Felicity into his private rooms. As they entered a long corridor, Felicity took in the overwhelming magic that seemed to surround her. Perhaps it was true how the chocolatier's rooms were as magical as the rest of his factory.

As they stepped out into the large and colorful sitting room, Felicity found herself not certain as to what to stare at first. The place reminded her of Toyland from 'The Nutcracker' stories she had read as a child.

Not noticing her overwhelming surprise, Willy simply led her into the room and motioned towards the sofa. "Just make yourself at home," he offered cordially.

Numbly, she nodded as he started to make his way back over towards the door. Within seconds, she raised her head. "I…" her voice trailed off.

"Not to worry, my dearest lady," he said gently. "You'll be safe while I take care of things back at my office."

"But…" She tried to speak again, but this proved futile.

"…Listen, I don't want you to worry about anything," he said gently. "Nothing is going to happen to you, and we will talk about everything when I get back."

"I don't want to put you out," she whispered.

"You're not," he said softly as he infolded one of her hands between his. As she felt the softness of his hold, she nodded, but wordlessly watched as he released the hold and left the room before closing the door behind him.

Once she was alone, Felicity stood for several moments looking around the room. Wordlessly, she went over to the sofa and started to sit down. Just before her body could completely relax amidst the cushions of the sofa, she began to take in the rest of the room. Large bookshelves were along one wall with books of every size and color beckoning her to come closer and sample their knowledge.

She got up and walked slowly over to the shelf before she began to read the titles that graced the spines of each one. Some were quite familiar, while others appeared like transcripts from amateur novelists. As she began to take in the familiar classics, she smiled when she recognized various titles by Charles Dickens, Geoffrey Chaucer, William Shakespeare and Ernest Hemingway. Other books were in languages she could not understand: German, French, Latin, and Italian.

She smiled slightly, well, this explains where Willy got his intense love of literary quotes and literature. She continued to read the titles and smiled when she found a small book of poetry by Robert Frost, one of her favorite American poets.

As she took the book over to the sofa and seated herself, a small slip of paper fell out from between the pages of the book and fluttered to the floor completely unobserved.

"I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference," she read softly aloud as the tears caught in her eyes. She glanced towards the door that Willy had exited as a small smile graced her lips.

"I know what I have to do now," she whispered.

In the far corner, Sam stood. Perhaps I was wrong about this young lady, he thought to himself. She seems completely unaware that Willy Wonka's most secret recipe was now on the floor in one corner of his sitting room.


	18. Chapter 17: Last Laugh of Jeremy Cooper

_Hello again everyone, happy new year, and welcome back to the story. Now that my hand is better, and the tendonitis is a thing of the past, I can happily say that I have finally figured out how to connect this back to the prologue (that was where the writer's block had come from)._

_Read on, enjoy, and if you see any overt problems, just let me know in your reviews. Thanks for the continued support._

_Edited January 14, 2009. Jennionthisside, the sorted to sordid has been changed. Thanks for the heads up.

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**Chapter 17: The Last Laugh of Jeremy Cooper**

By the time Willy had reached his office, he had managed to calm himself down to some extent. Of course, he would soon discover that that overt state of resolve would be left in shambles before the day was out.

It was no secret that the confectioner was still quite confused by the events that had led up to him taking Felicity to his private rooms and leaving her there. She'd be safe and sound, he argued against his instincts, which were telling him that he should sit down and give her the chance to tell him even more than what she had already disclosed. If only she would trust me enough to tell me what is on her mind and in her heart, he thought glumly.

At the same instance, Willy knew that he had a business to run and regardless of the fear and doubt that was manifested in him, this stubborn logic eventually won out. Of course, contrary to his determination in concealing his emotional state, the internal conflict left him monumentally torn.

In the back of his mind, Willy could not help but ask himself if he was falling in love.

Although Felicity seemed weak, there was a strength of character embedded in her that he could not help but admire. Perhaps the admiration that he carried might actually resemble love.

As he waited for the sliding doors to open, his thoughts returned to Jeremy and how the whole sordid mess with him needed some resolution. It was time to listen to what Gertrude and Clarence Bucket had been saying all along about Jeremy and not roam the factory grounds donned in rose colored glasses. It was time for him to confront this toxic individual once and for all and put the rumors and hearsay to rest.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the glass door to the Wonkavator and stepped out into his office. What he saw took him aback. Instead of seeing the younger man standing and waiting for him to arrive, Jeremy was digging around the desk, his hand flying over the papers and documentation that covered it.

He watched this for several seconds as a flood of anger washed over him. How could I have been so naïve as to trust that guy? He asked himself as he crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the man's unsuspecting back.

"Did you lose something, Jeremy?" He finally spoke, his voice abruptly filling the room. The forcedness of the question made Jeremy whirl around with such speed that Willy thought the man was going to lose his footing and topple over like a house of cards.

"No sir, Mr. Wonka," the man said, his words emerging with such syrupy sweetness that Willy thought he'd develop diabetes right there on the spot.

With Jeremy's objectives now completely distracted, Willy took full advantage of the situation. "You were snooping, no doubt looking for a recipe, but you know I wouldn't be stupid enough to keep such secret things on my desk. All you're going to find there are several shipping orders, as well as some backlogged receipts that need filing."

Jeremy shrugged. "I didn't really notice anything, sir. I just came because Adam was in the Inventing Room just now and he said that you wanted to see me. So, here I am."

"Yes, well, generally when I ask someone to come to my office, it does not give them free mobility to nose around in my work," Willy said as he regarded the man. "Somehow I think Gertrude was right about you, maybe you really are a spy."

Jeremy looked at him. "Me?" He stammered, but quickly recovered as his laugher filled the room. "A spy? Now really, Mr. Wonka, no one told me that you had such a remarkable sense of humor. Of course, I can well imagine that the one putting that sort of flea in your ear is Gertrude. I can assure you that I am not a spy, but if you are intent on being the next 007, I can tell you who has less than noble intentions around here and it most certainly would not be me."

"Whom are you referring to, Jeremy?" Willy asked. He was not in the mood to be strung along, yet somehow this man seemed to play the manipulation card like a pro.

"I've been trying to tell you this since the day that bozo walked into the Inventing Room the very first time. You may think you know the world better than the rest of us, but the one you need to watch is that Adam character."

"Adam?" Willy asked skeptically. He cast a sideways glance over towards the desk and noticed the piece of paper Adam had returned to him still lay there untouched. Although his conscience was nagging at him not to believe a word, his curiosity about Jeremy's assertions were most definitely piqued.

Jeremy, sensing this, continued to speak as he regarded the chocolatier as though he was the golden goose that was about to get plucked and roasted for Christmas dinner. "I know his kind, Mr. Wonka. Sure, he looks honest enough, but everyone knows that he's only here to sabotage your work. He's just waiting for the moment you have your back turned so he can destroy everything. The only trouble is, no one here seems to listen to me because the person who took Clarence Bucket's place as manager is pretty much the poster child for the Alzheimer's Foundation…"

"…Enough," Willy snapped. "Do you honestly think that I am that naïve to believe a crop of sordid tales?"

Jeremy raised his head. "I don't think you're naïve at all, Mr. Wonka, but I do think that you should swallow your egotistical pride and listen to me for a change. Everything that old bat has been telling you has been based on the words of a man who is now pushing up daisies. I'm just saying that maybe you ought to start analyzing things with that new guy and stop those busybodies from mobbing me. Ever since Adam started working there, things have really been falling apart."

"Is that why you have been hanging around the machines in the Inventing Room so much?" Willy asked. "Do you think that I hired someone who has the intentions of destroying the factory? If I didn't know any better, I would say that you, yourself, are putting forth a great deal of time and effort at putting down your colleagues and making yourself look like the victim. Might I add that that is about as likely as my taking up drumming for a heavy metal band?" He paused. "Considering that it was you I caught snooping around my office and not Adam, I do not feel so terribly inclined to believe that you necessarily speak the truth here."

"Are you only saying that because of the lies Felicity Jacobs has been spreading about me?" Jeremy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"Felicity hasn't said any such thing about you. In fact, she has been trying to avoid discussing you entirely," Willy said.

"That doesn't surprise me at all. In fact, it only solidifies my argument that Adam and Felicity are the ones who cannot be trusted." Jeremy said. "Were you even aware of the fact that that perfect little lady has blood on her hands?"

"Blood on her hands?" Willy asked. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about why it is that Felicity Jacobs is even here in the first place," he said with feigned astonishment. Before the chocolatier could so much as respond, he continued. "Her former boyfriend was my younger brother, Mr. Wonka and she killed him in cold blood. I saw her do it, and I've been trying ever since it happened to get her to come clean about it. She won't, and today I think she probably needs to institutionalized. She's a danger to herself as well as those around her. Of course, you probably don't believe me since it's obvious that you're pursuing her. My only hope is that you have your life insurance policy updated, because something tells me that you're going to need it."

He started to walk towards the door, but stopped and turned around. "Oh, and by the way, if you're still convinced that I'm a spy, then I'd be more than happy to empty my pockets before I leave your office."

By this time, Willy's face had taken on an ashen hue.

Simply from looking at him, Jeremy could tell that Felicity had not told Willy anything about her past, and he was going to play that bit for all it was worth. If I'm going down, the man thought meanly, then I'm not going to be making the trip alone. Just before he opened the door, Willy found his voice and spoke.

"All things considered Jeremy, I cannot forget what your past and present supervisors have said about your job performance. Gertrude and Clarence's words mirror one another almost to a 't'. Now, regardless of what you may say or think about the way I run a business, or the other people you work with, I don't think this is going to work out, simply because your attitude is not conducive to a creative atmosphere." Taking a deep breath, he continued speaking, his words filled with an almost unfamiliar firmness. "It is for that reason that I have decided to let you go."

"You're firing me?" He mouthed the words, but still regarded Willy as though the chocolatier was kidding. After all the things he had told him, about Gertrude, Adam, and Felicity, the chocolatier was laying him off.

"Yes," Willy said firmly. "Now, I want you to take your things, and get off the premises. I'm sorry, but far too many things have happened here, and I cannot take anymore risks. Whether you wish to believe it or not, you are a high-risk factor here."

Jeremy bit down on his lip, but made his way towards the door. Opening it, he stopped and turned around, his cold eyes regarding Willy for the very last time. "You'll be sorry," he said bitingly as he pulled the door closed behind him.

This left Willy to lull over the words Jeremy had said just before he had left. Although the chocolatier did not want to believe the words about Felicity, he could not help but ponder if the grave secret that she had been concealing did somehow stem from her past. At the same time, he could not help but contemplate the amount of time that Adam had spent studying the machines in the Inventing room. There was something uncanny about how Jeremy had described his actions, and yet, Adam's behavior since arriving at the factory was that of fascination and intense curiosity.

Maybe there was something to Jeremy's words after all; maybe Adam was a spy.

His thoughts abruptly shifted back to what Jeremy had said about Felicity and his brother. Could that frail looking young woman possibly have done what Jeremy was saying? Was she a virtual wolf in sheep's clothing? Contrary to what the chocolatier was thinking, the questions were literally ravaging him.

Always a man of logic, Willy Wonka began to contemplate the events of the past week. Felicity did seem afraid of Jeremy, so perhaps what he had been saying about her was the truth. Yet, if she had killed a man, then wouldn't she be in prison and not working at a candy factory?

He made his way back over to the Wonkavator. It was time for him to make heads or tails of what Jeremy had been saying, and yet, he had a strange feeling that this was not going to be easy task for him to undertake at all. If he discovered that one of Jeremy's tall tales was somehow true, then that meant that perhaps he had been telling the truth from the start.

Hastily, Willy pressed the button next to his prized invention and waited for the door to slide open, Once it did, he reached out and grabbed the handle to the glass elevator and quickly climbed inside.

* * *

The moment Jeremy had been dismissed from his job, Adam had been standing in the hallway just outside the confectioner's office. He was not visible to the human eye, but that seemed not to matter. As the door swung open and Jeremy emerged from the confines of the office, the angel knew beyond any doubt what had happened. Jeremy had lost his job and was now literally beside himself with rage.

As the angel watched the man rush quickly past where he stood, a slight smile unconsciously curved up the corner of his lips as the core of the factory's many problems disappeared around a corner.

Yet, despite his relief that Jeremy was no longer employed at Willy's factory, there was something left in the air that, to Adam, was quite unsettling. Despite his feeling that Willy had finally come to his senses about Jeremy, there was a small voice inside the angel that said that things would not return to normal as quickly or painlessly as one might anticipate.

Although the voice was contrary to his hopes, Adam knew that it was to be heeded as that was the Father's voice in his heart that was advising him further. Heeding this guidance, his angelic form disappeared and reappeared in the confines of the Inventing Room. For the most part, the room was completely empty as the other workers had taken their lunch breaks. This left the area completely vulnerable to a possible onslaught that Jeremy Cooper might be planning.

As luck would have, Jeremy had not yet arrived, but Adam guessed that he would be there very soon.

Taking a look around the room, Adam stared at the various machines that were the bulk of Willy Wonka's work. The machines themselves were as strange and mysterious to him as they had always been to the other workers. As to their precise means of function, no one really knew that except for the man who invented them. During his first day, Adam had actually asked someone why they were even there, but it soon became clear that they needed people to monitor them.

Adam recalled his first day at the factory and smiled. Willy Wonka was truly a genius, but the angel knew that even brilliant people were human and they were prone to not always making the wisest decisions.

Seconds later, he was brought back to the present moment when he heard the sounds of Jeremy entering the room. Willy, in his haste to return to his quarters and speak with Felicity, had made the crucial mistake of forgetting to request the return of Jeremy's key, which would grant him instant access to the Inventing Room.

As the younger man came into the room, Adam watched in shock and horror as he grabbed what looked to be an odd shaped crowbar and began beating it against the machines. "That egotistical candy making asshole!" Jeremy began to shout as loud as he could as the sounds of crunching metal and glass shattering soon filled the angel's ears.

Soon Jeremy's attention shifted from the machine he had been working on to Adam's, then Felicity's and finally Gertrude's.

The agonizing sounds that filled the angel's ears resembled the human essence of being tortured. The candy making machines would not withstand much more abuse, and this would destroy the bulk of Willy Wonka's creative work.

Oh Father, please let me do something, he prayed softly, but when the Father's instructions returned to his conscience, his eyes widened in surprise.

Adam had been told to do nothing, that he was not there to tend to the machines, but instead to the man who created them. All that he was to do was simply to stand, wait, and watch as Jeremy took his anger and hostilities out of the ingenious work of his assignment.

For the first time in his existence, the Angel of Death turned Caseworker did not do as the Father had instructed. Instead, he disappeared and reappeared at the door leading into the Inventing Room.

Now, no longer in angelic form, Adam knew that the only thing that he was capable of doing was to go into that room and catch Jeremy Cooper red handed.


	19. Chapter 18: Connections

_I had intended on posting this installment yesterday, but things sort of got crazy here, so I am getting it up this morning. Here's hoping you enjoy. Thanks to Ya Ya and Victory Starr for the reviews, it is very encouraging to me. _

_This chapter has a tissue warning affixed._

_Happy reading. Technical stuff corrected, thanks Victory Starr and Ya Ya._

_Edited January 14, 2009. The next update will not have this notation as it will be new material. Hope you have enjoyed the story thus far. Reviews are deeply appreciated.

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**Chapter 18: Connections**

Felicity was still sitting on the sofa when Willy returned from his office. Her head was lowered and she was still reading the book that she had found on the shelf just after he had left. During this time, she had tried desperately to figure out how she was going to tell him everything she knew about her past. In the depths of her spirit, she hoped that he would understand, or at least try in some way to help distance her from Jeremy Cooper.

As soon as he had come into the room, these intentions immediately dried up. As the door slammed resolutely behind him, she did not have to even turn around to know that he was angry. At that moment, she knew that he must already know the words that she had intended on speaking. Wordlessly, she closed the book but turned around as he came further into the room.

No words were spoken, but she watched as he approached where she was seated. He remained standing, however, his tall frame now towering over her as he regarded her through stony blue eyes.

After several seconds, something caught his eye and he leaned down and snatched the book hastily away. At that moment, he finally spoke, his voice laced in coldness. "What are you doing with that?"

Not knowing what any of this meant, the young woman shook her head, but no words emerged from between her lips. If truth were known, something in his stance terrified her and for the life of her, she could not figure out why that was the case.

On the other side of the room, Sam stood watching their actions. He knew that neither of them could see that he was present, but noting the shock that lined the young woman's face, he released an unhappy sigh. Felicity's suffering would no doubt continue.

The young woman was not only a victim of Jeremy Cooper's lies, but now Willy Wonka's overt confusion. This was not good, but the angel continued to watch and wait to see what the two humans were going to do next.

It was clear that the angel had witnessed enough to know what was happening. Willy's reactions were now causing her to unconsciously recall various facets of the night that had altered her life completely. A small and rather insignificant lump formed in the back of the angel's throat as he watched everything unable to move or even speak. It was clear that this was going to play out because of how successful Jeremy had been at manipulating Willy Wonka with lies and deceit.

Still encased with fear, Felicity watched as Willy began to flip through the pages of the book as though looking for something. When he did not find it, he turned and looked at her, his expression grave, but laced in accusation. "Where is it?" He demanded.

"Where is what?" She asked weakly.

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped. "There was a slip of paper between the pages of this book. It was there when I put it on the shelf last night, and now it's gone." As these words emerged, he could feel the sounds of them wavering somewhat. Striving at keeping his voice steady, he continued. "I put it between 'Birches' and 'The Road Not Taken'. So either it is in this book, or you have taken it."

"But, Willy, I-I didn't," she objected. "Honest, there was nothing between the pages. After you told me to make myself at home, I thought I would read some of this poetry to pass the time."

"I don't believe you," he muttered as disappointment literally encased him. After several moments, he could feel the validity of Jeremy's words ringing in his mind. Instead of allowing logic to overtake him, he looked at her angrily. "How could you do this to me?"

"Do what?" She asked. "Willy, please, I didn't do anything to you. I was just reading a book. I don't understand why you're so angry."

"Perhaps you don't, but I think I'm starting to." As he spoke, the chocolatier shook his head miserably as hot tears threatened to fall from beneath his eyes. Concealing them, he continued. "In fact, I think I'm really starting to understand that everything about you has been based on a lie."

"No," she shook her head. "Please, believe me, I wouldn't take anything away from you."

"Then where is it?" He insisted. "Why isn't the paper inside the book where it belongs?" When she didn't answer, he came closer and grabbed her shoulders and began to roughly shake her. "For God's sake Felicity, you have to tell me where it is."

"I-I can't," she stammered.

"You can't or you won't?" He asked. When she clamped her eyes shut, he nodded his head as he released her from this hold. Sadly, he regarded her as his next words emerged, laced defeat. "Well, in that case you might as well kill me, too."

Upon hearing them, Felicity's eyes unconsciously widened. Her head now throbbed from having been shaken, and now she felt as though she had been on a roller coaster and was just wanting for the moment to get off. In addition to that, the overwhelming fear that she carried was now mixed with shock – shock that Willy Wonka would behave in such a manner as this.

At the very same instant, she knew beyond any doubt what Willy was implying. Jeremy had told him about what had happened to Richard and Willy had actually believed him. It was playing out exactly as she had feared. Now there was very little she could do to prevent it.

Felicity Jacobs knew that there was no escaping the past, and worse still, she had no allies left. Instead of speaking, she allowed her body to listlessly collapsed back against the soft cushions of the sofa.

She was soon brought back to the reality of the moment, however, when Willy's voice filled the room. "Tell me where my paper is," he shouted.

Instead of initially speaking, she began to cry. "I d-don't know where it is."

"Yes you do, yet it seems perfectly clear that you do not care. You're going to betray me, and ironically, it is you who is crying," Willy said angrily. "How could I have been so foolish to think that you even cared?"

"But, I do."

"Then tell me where my recipe is," he demanded.

"I don't know."

"Okay fine, you don't know," he began. "Then perhaps you should now tell me what compelled you to withholding the truth from me about your past. Why did I have to hear it all from Jeremy Cooper?"

"H-he t-told you?" She whispered brokenly.

Willy nodded as he sat down on the sofa and looked out across the room, his expression laced in indifference, but he offered a verbal response. "Yes, he told me, and it certainly explains a great deal about what your motivations for being here have been. Perhaps this whole charade that you have been playing along with is just another way of keeping him from telling people that you are a wolf in sheep's clothing."

Felicity closed her eyes, but shook her head as the tears still continued to slide down over her face. "I was going to tell you everything, but I was afraid – afraid of how you were going to react. Then I thought that if anyone could help me, it would be you. But I guess I was wrong, because there's no one who can help someone like me."

"Don't start with this self-pity route," he said evenly. "This time it won't work, especially if you did what he said you had done." He paused. "Did you?"

"I don't know if I did or not," she whispered brokenly. "I don't remember very much about that night. I know that the morning after everything happened, I woke up not able to remember anything. Oh God, I was so scared and felt so alone. I couldn't recognize where I was or even how I had gotten there. All I could remember was that my body was aching in places that I had never paid any mind. My mouth was dry like I had swallowed a bag of cotton. At that moment, all I could think of to do was to run away from my home and my family, to just get away it all. I didn't care about logic or what people would say, I just had to get away..." As she spoke, she tried to conceal the tears, but when she could not, she wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.

"Soon after that, I found myself here in this town. I came to the factory in the hopes of getting a job and finding a place where I could fit in. Then one day, out of the blue, Jeremy showed up and told me that he knew what had happened that night and that I had murdered his brother. Ever since then, I've been trying to stay away from him, but he still found me and tried to force me to do things that I don't want to do. For the longest time, I let him do it, but then last week when I told him I didn't want to do it, he started beating me up."

"Why wouldn't you do it?" Willy asked, despite his anger.

"Because something made me want to stay, even though I was still afraid," she whispered.

"What was that?" Willy asked dully.

"I met you and…and decided that I wasn't going to let him chase me off." She took a deep breath. "You wanted to know what happened to me in the break room? That's what it was, Jeremy had trapped me in there and told me that I should distract you so that he could get what he wanted. He was the one who wanted to betray you, not me. I was just too afraid to tell you because he told me that if I did, he'd kill me."

Willy took a deep breath and released it. "In all honesty, I don't know what the truth is anymore. But, I do know that I cannot continue with anymore of these games. The fact that you have lied to me the whole time cannot be overlooked." He stood up, his expression once more hardening. "I think you should go now."

"But, Willy…"

"…I said, you should go," he interrupted her. "Don't come back here, Felicity, I mean it. I don't want to see you again. You do whatever it is you have to do, I don't care anymore."

Felicity took a deep breath as she got to her feet, her body trembling as she raised her head and tried to find the words she wanted to say. "But, I do care," she whispered. "I'd never have done anything to hurt you…I love you."

Willy raised his head, but lowered it again, the pain that lined his face now unmistakable. Still unable to respond, he watched as she stood up and walked over to the door. Behind her, Willy slowly followed.

Once he had opened the door and showed her out of the room, he closed it firmly behind them. As soon as they were gone, Sam started to walk the length of the empty room. As he made his way, he stood over the spot where the slip of paper was now lying.

With his eyes still on it, he shook his head sadly. This assignment was starting to come unraveled and very quickly.

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Seconds later, Andrew appeared and Sam turned to face his younger friend, his expression grave. "I'm glad you're here, Andrew."

"How are things going?"

"Not good, Adam's going to need a lot of support in the coming hours, and hopefully you can offer him a shoulder. He's made a terrible mistake, not really one that could change the situation, but he may very well think that it did." He paused. "How is your case shaping up?"

"Clara has not yet cried about Clarence's passing, but Gertrude had been by to see her several times since his passing," he said. "Now, little Charlie is spending all his time looking for angels. It's been that way ever since Tess showed up and spoke to him prior to his father's death."

"Well, it seems rather obvious that the child is looking for you, Andrew. Perhaps soon, you can appear to him and put all his questions to rest. After all, something tells me that that little boy may very well be the one who will reach Adam," Sam said.

"What about Felicity?" Andrew asked. "How is she doing?"

"Not good at all, I'm afraid," Sam said. "The Father just informed me that Henry has been brought into this assignment."

Upon hearing the name of another Angel of Death, Andrew took a deep breath. "Do you think Felicity will choose to end her life?"

"When people are heartbroken and they feel as though they have no other way out, then yes, an Angel of Death is generally sent in as a precautionary measure. You should know that by now. After all, ever since you took Mr. Lincoln home, you have had countless assignments that left you on stand-by."

Andrew nodded in acknowledgement of the elder angel's words. "You're right, Sam. I shouldn't have even questioned that, especially knowing how fragile that young woman really is." He paused before taking a deep breath and continuing. "So what are we going to do? Tell her who you are and try and help her to start over? I mean; she is your assignment, right?"

"Yes, she is, but I cannot tell her anything. The truth is, the Father doesn't want me to reveal to her who I am," he said. "The person who is supposed to reach her now is Willy Wonka. The problem is, he's now angry with her, he just accused her of stealing his most valuable recipe."

"But, if he's mad at her, then he's not going to be able to help her at all," Andrew objected.

"I know that," Sam mused. "And all of this is because of that little piece of paper is now lying there on the floor."

"Is that the recipe?"

"Yes, it's for the 'Everlasting Gobstopper'," Sam said with a slight nod of his head. "You see, this particular recipe could very easily revolutionize the entire industry. If someone like Arthur Slugworth, Steven Prodnose, or even Martin Fickelgruber were to get their hands on it, then it could completely destroy Wonka Industries and I think Willy Wonka knows that."

"Is that God's will, Sam? To completely destroy this man?" Andrew asked.

"No, it was never God's will for Willy to lose his business or his faith in humanity anymore than it was His will that Felicity Jacobs was to be oppressed. The problem is, this case has somehow distorted the truth into lies and lies into something that resembles the truth, but is not."

He motioned towards the paper that was resting on the floor. "This paper is not only the recipe for the greatest candy that Willy Wonka has ever invented, but it is also a rough sketch of the machine that will help make these candies a reality," Sam explained. "Willy believes that Felicity took it and will turn it over to Jeremy. If he has it, then he can sell it Slugworth for a substantial reward. For the longest time, we all thought that that was going to be the catalyst here, that she was going to do this."

"I don't follow," Andrew said.

"Well, when that slip of paper fell from the book, Felicity did not even see it," Sam explained. "Do you see how that could change everything? It even had an impact on the way in which we looked at the situation. We thought this was about Felicity being tempted to give in to a bully, but in fact, it is not. If Felicity does not even know that the recipe exists, then perhaps we were assuming too much about her. I am guessing that the Father knew this, and was warning us to not let rumors and hearsay influence us."

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "You mean that we should not judge people based on things other people say?"

"Yes," Sam said with a slow nod of his head.

"So, did Felicity tell Willy that she didn't know anything?" Andrew asked.

"She tried, but he was too upset to listen," Sam said. "Right now, Willy refuses to believe anything she says, even the most significant thing of all."

"The events of that night," Andrew muttered. "Sam, someone has to tell her the truth."

"I know, and before this assignment is done, she will know the truth," he said. "The problem is, Willy knows what Jeremy is holding over her, but instead of listening to his conscience, he believes what Jeremy said. It is for that reason that Henry has shown up."

"So, in other words, if she can't tell Willy that Jeremy had lied, then it adds more validity to his lies." Taking a deep breath, Andrew found himself recalling the events that happened in God's Country just before Clarence Bucket died. "Sam, since you're still in charge of this case, tell me what you want me to do."

"The only thing any of us can do right now is wait," Sam said, but after a few moments of contemplation, he looked at the younger angel. "Listen Andrew, I'm going to go and keep an eye on Felicity. In this vulnerable state, I don't want to see her get confronted by Jeremy again."

"That's a good idea," Andrew said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Perhaps it might be a good idea for you to go to the park and get some fresh air. I don't really know why, but something tells me that that is where Adam may eventually turn up."

"You know him pretty well," Andrew mused. "Maybe by going there, I'll actually be able to do something that might help out a little bit. I will openly admit that from the start, this case has had me pretty baffled."

"You're not the only angel who has experienced that, Andrew," Sam said as he averted his eyes and a rare smile touched his lips. "Of course you know how Tess has always attested to the Father liking happy endings, and things being neatly taken care of. Perhaps that will be the case here as well."

Andrew smiled, but offered his friend a concurring nod. "You're right about that, but I will admit openly that after I took Clarence Bucket Home I initially figured that I would be sent on another case. I am glad that I have gotten the chance to get to know the Bucket family, but I am not certain how much I can do. They seem to be contending with their grief rather well."

"Yes, but regardless, I think that it is very good thing that you are here, Andrew. All of the background work that you have been doing has been monumentally helpful. I am only hopeful that it will be enough. Adam's not the most experienced Caseworker around. He's been out of practice for almost five hundred years. It's not been easy for him to come back into it now."

Andrew nodded, he knew what Sam was saying, but he also knew that for all the things Adam lacked, he still had a heart of gold and would do anything he could to help his assignment. "Perhaps he is, but we shouldn't underestimate him, because he's a lot stronger than any of us think," Andrew smiled reassuringly. "He'll come through."

As the two angels disappeared, the last thoughts to enter Andrew's conscience were: 'I hope'.


	20. Chapter 19: Adam's Lament

_In case you are not certain about the events of this chapter, we are back at the moment where the prologue actually happens. If you have any questions or this is not quite clear to you, then imagine inserting the prologue of this story into the middle of the chapter, just after Adam's dialogue with Tess and before Andrew begins speaking. This is specifically where the prologue fits into the action of the story. If that's still not clear, then please let me know in your reviews and I'll try and clarify it further._

_Enjoy the latest update. Please review, even one sentence reviews are appreciated. I've pretty much written my heart out on this story.  


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**Chapter 19: Adam's Lament**

As soon as Willy had escorted Felicity off the factory grounds, he returned inside. As he closed the heavy door behind him, the realization hit that he had pushed the young woman away and that she had literally disappeared from his life once and for all.

She had told him that she loved him, but he still questioned whether or not she had said this as an act of desperation and not really the truth at all. His mind was now consumed and he was no longer certain as to whether or not he could rectify that, even with work. He had treated her so horribly and now his conscience had started to relentlessly nag away at him.

As he made one last futile attempt at ignoring this, he sullenly returned to the Inventing Room.

It had been close to an hour since his confrontation with Jeremy, and now he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to return to the work that he so dearly loved. Perhaps now that I have managed to rid the factory of these incessant problems and negativity, we can set about to getting things back to normal, he thought as he dug in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a key.

Work was now the only thing that would make him feel any better.

As he reached the door leading into the Inventing Room, he was surprised when he found it ajar. What is this? He pondered as he slowly entered the room.

The sight that greeted him caused him to stare in shock. The chaos that met his expectant gaze was far cry worse than anything that he could have anticipated. "Oh God, no!" escaped from between his lips as he surveyed the broken machines and destroyed equipment. With weighted steps, he tried without success at stepping over the glass and metal remnants of his work that layered the Inventing Room floor. Stepping over the bigger pieces, he could feel an unconscious lump forming in the back of his throat.

What has happened to my work? He asked himself as he raised his head to see the remaining group of workers still assembled. They seemed to be waiting for him to return, but just as he was doing, most were staring. At that moment, it became monumentally clear that everything Willy Wonka had ever worked towards had died, right there before his eyes.

Justin and Paul were the only members of the team who were actually in motion, and they were trying futilely at repairing one of the machines. Although Willy was now present, the two men continued to puzzle over it in a helpless attempt at salvaging the chocolatier's labors.

He looked over at the group, his blue eyes filled with despair as he took in the actions of the rest of his most trusted workers. Mary and Holly were staring in stunned silence across the mass of mangled up metal, their eyes filled with sorrow as they regarded what was left of the room.

On the other side, Adam wearily opened his eyes to find that he was now sprawled out on the floor, his head literally spinning as though it was about to explode in excruciating pain. Willy watched as Gertrude placed a hand on his shoulder, thus encouraging him to remain in a reclined position.

After several moments had passed, the angel was able to sit back up and with the woman's assistance, he raised his head and managed to focus on the spectacle that lie before him. It was at that moment when Adam figured out where he was and what specifically had happened after he had entered the room and tried to stop Jeremy.

He recalled how that intention had proven to be an unwise move at best. Seconds later, he had felt a hard object striking the back of his head before everything went black and he crumpled to the floor in a heap.

Looking up, the angel recognized that the gentle hand that was stroking his hair belonged to Gertrude. The older woman was now kneeling beside him and regarding him with a mixture of sorrow and concern. She had, no doubt stayed with him from the moment she had found him unconscious on the floor.

"What happened?" He managed to utter. His throat was now parched and his head hurting like crazy. He knew that he had to find out what had happened and sincerely hoped that the other workers would be able to enlighten him.

Instead of hearing their response, all he heard was Willy's voice as it filled his throbbing head. "What happened?" The chocolatier parroted the words back as he looked around the room in utter heartbreak. "It's all gone…that's what happened. All these years…"

Gertrude looked at Adam and when he nodded that he was alright, she slowly got to her feet and walked over to her employer. Reaching him, she extended her hand and rested it on his shoulder. He turned and looked at her, his dull expression nearly breaking her heart. "It was Jeremy, Mr. Wonka, he's the one who did this…" she said softly.

Instead of responding cordially, he nodded numbly, but his next words took her by surprise. "I just want everyone out of here."

His voice was weak, as though he had lost every last bit of faith in the world that existed. Fearing that no one had actually heard him, he spoke again, this time, his words louder and much stronger. "Please everyone, just go away!"

Confusion descended on the room, but soon the other people silently heeded his words. Mary and Holly were the first to go, followed closely by Justin and Paul, who had gotten up off the floor and acknowledged him with unhappy shrugs with their shoulders. Soon the only people remaining in the room were Gertrude, Adam, and Willy.

The older woman remained precisely where she was, her stance unwavering. It seemed that regardless of what would become of her, she was more or less determined to offer her comfort to the despondent confectioner.

Before she could so much as utter a sound, Willy simply looked at her. "It's over, Gertrude, you can go home with the rest of them. Retire, enjoy your life, there's nothing left for you here."

"Willy," she spoke as she shook her head adamantly. "You're still here and you've always known that when God closes a door, He always opens a window."

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked at her. "Perhaps I had started to believe that, but at this moment, you have absolutely no idea how many doors have already been slammed in my face." He reached over and squeezed her hand before releasing it. "If you want to help me, dear lady, then leave this place and don't ever look back."

With an unhappy nod, Gertrude dug in the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the key to the Inventing Room. This she placed into his hand and solemnly left the room, thus leaving Adam the last remaining person.

As soon as she was gone, Willy looked over at where the angel was now half standing half leaning against the wall. As Willy had spoken to Gertrude, he managed to get to his feet. Now, with guilt shadowing his face, the angel approached where Willy was now standing, "I tried to stop him," he offered, his voice soft.

"It didn't help, did it?" Willy asked coldly.

"No, it didn't," Adam whispered acknowledging the truth in the other man's words.

They sank into awkward silence until Willy spoke up, this time his words even more cold and distanced than anything else that had emerged up to that point. "Jeremy was right all along," Willy whispered.

"No, Willy, he wasn't. He's the one who's responsible for all of this," Adam said softly. "Somehow, he managed to manipulate everything and everyone. He did that with Felicity, but he somehow also managed that with you."

"Why should I even believe anything you say?" Emerged the dull question. "Why should I believe in anyone anymore?"

"Because whether you like it or not, you do need other people, Willy," Adam said. "Your factory may fulfill your dreams in the short span of time, but the only thing that can really sustain you is contact with other people."

"And then what? Have them hurt and betray me?" Willy asked with an adamant shake of his head. "No, Adam, I don't need that and I don't need people. For all I care, they can just go away and never come back."

"You don't mean that," Adam said softly.

"Yes, I do," he said sadly as he raised his head only slightly and looked at the angel, his expression darkening. "I did try, and you cannot say otherwise. I truly believed that I did have friends, not just people who worked here. That was nothing but a lie. Everything was a lie, intended to do nothing except ruin me."

"Perhaps you should remember the old saying about in order to have a friend you have to be one, without conditions affixed or expectations added," Adam said.

"I was trying, but just look around you," he said stubbornly. He started to turn away, but suddenly stopped before once again turning back around and facing the angel. "Just tell me one thing; have you ever had your dreams taken away from you like this?"

"No," the angel whispered. "I haven't."

"Well, then perhaps you ought to deliver your sermon to someone else," he snapped. "Until that day comes where you have lost the very thing you have spent your entire life working towards, then I will welcome your advice. Otherwise, just butt out." He turned away as he picked up a small flat piece of metal. This had a reflective side to it and without thinking of what he was doing or why, Willy turned it over so that he could see his reflection in it. "I spent years, trying to figure out the mechanics of these machines as well as programming them with the precise amounts needed for making the most unique candies imaginable. This was my life, Adam, it was everything that I had, and now it's gone."

"It's not everything, Willy," Adam whispered. "You're still here."

"Who cares?" He asked as he threw the object across the room and watched it hit the wall before falling to the ground with a loud clatter. As soon as the room had grown silent again, he continued speaking. "What do I have to live for now? Starting all over, trying to make another bunch of machines, aspiring that they will be even better or faster than the ones that have been destroyed? You really have no idea what I've been through to get to where I was before all of this happened today. So don't you dare pretend that you actually do understand."

Instead of speaking further, his gaze once again took in the disheveled state of the room, his eyes filled with sadness.

"It's more than twenty years worth of work, and in one day, it's all gone. Well, I suppose now you can go back to your boss now and tell him that you succeeded where their spies had failed. You destroyed Wonka Industries, Adam. You might as have killed and gutted me as well, because I have nothing left."

With that, Willy turned away. "You know the way out so just go away. There's no sense in locking the room behind you, though. You and Jeremy were indeed thorough with your schemes."

As these words sunk in, Adam watched as the inconsolable man left the Inventing Room. As his familiar silhouette disappeared in the distance, Adam's eyes closed slowly. The feeling of sorrow abruptly washed over him as he tried to block out the machines that lay in shambles all around him.

"Father, please forgive me. I know You told me not to try and stop Jeremy, but I couldn't stand the thought of just watching him destroy everything," he whispered to the stillness.

"When a man's heart is as full of hatred as Jeremy Cooper's then there is nothing you can do to stop him, Angel Boy." The sound of a familiar voice emerged next to where he was standing.

He turned around and saw that Tess had appeared, her ebony colored hair brushing against her shoulders and her dark eyes regarding him with love and compassion. Her look was completed by a flowing beige colored gown that extended down to her feet and hugged her ankles.

When she did not speak further, Adam looked at her dejectedly. "If you're here to scold me…" he began.

"…I'm not, baby, that's not my job," she said gently. Instead of speaking further, she put a motherly arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer to her. As his head came to rest on her shoulder, the tears continued to stream from his unhappy blue eyes.

"I really tried, Tess," he whispered as he haphazardly tried to wipe the tears away. "I did everything wrong."

"No you didn't baby, you disregarded the Father's voice in your heart only once, and that was to do what you thought would be the right thing. Sadly, your actions did not change what happened to Willy Wonka, it only gave you a giant knot on the back of your head," she whispered gently. "This was your very first chance at Casework in perhaps close to five centuries, and you must not forget that only the Father is perfect, Adam. No one expects you to be more than what you are. I know that it may seem like I am some battle-axe angel who is pent on scolding and reprimanding you at every turn, but I'm not. You see, baby, you will make mistakes along the way, but you will never be considered anything less than a beloved child of your Creator."

"You're wrong, Tess," Adam said softly as he backed out of her embrace. "No matter what anyone says, I will always know that I failed. Look around you, I helped destroy Willy Wonka's dream. He thought I worked for one of his competitors, that I would go back and tell one of them that I helped to destroy his life's work, but you know I wouldn't."

"I know, Adam, but don't start believing untruths because of what he said to you just now," she said.

"He doesn't believe in anything. Who knows if he ever will?" Adam mumbled.

"That's why you're still on this case, baby, and Willy Wonka is still your assignment," she said. "The time is at hand for you to go and tell him who you are and who sent you."

"I don't know if I can do that, Tess," he began. "I wanted to help him, but I couldn't even do that. Now he's far worse off than he would have been had I never come at all. Maybe he needed another angel, maybe they would have made things right. Heaven knows, I couldn't."

Before Tess could even respond, he disappeared from Willy's factory only to appear on the park bench, his eyes filling with tears as he stared out across the grassy meadow that stretched out in front of him.

There he sat; alone and encased in misery.

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As time slowly pressed on and his friend Andrew had joined him on the very same bench, Adam was able to tell his friend everything that had happened. Of course, during the course of his explanation, he somehow realized that he was now reliving the course of these events all over again.

After some time had passed, Adam could feel the exhaustion that came from the burden of emotions that he was contending with. The more he told Andrew about the events of the past week, the more downhearted he felt. Instead of feeling better, he now felt worse.

The cross words that Willy had spoken were now several hours old, but yet, they still felt fresh and new in his mind.

"You know, you're not alone, Adam," Andrew eventually spoke, his words soft. "I've had assignments that have had some pretty difficult issues to contend with as well, but as Tess has often said, 'the story is not over until the words 'the end', and they do apply in this case. It has not ended yet, and there is still much to be done."

"Perhaps, but for me it has ended," Adam whispered.

"No," Andrew said firmly with an adamant shake of his head. "Whether or not you believe it, there are still people who need you."

"They're better off without me," Adam mumbled.

"No they're not and you know it," Andrew said bluntly. At that moment, Adam raised his head and looked at him. Somehow instead of silencing him, this gave his younger friend the ammunition to keep speaking. "Look Adam, no one expects you to be perfect here, but they do expect you to rise above the negativity and be a shining example of what an angel is supposed to be."

"Great, now you sound like Tess," he mused.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing for one of us to sound a little bit like her. She's very wise, Adam, and in many cases; she's right."

"Did you know that she showed up at the Inventing Room right after Willy told me to leave?" He asked.

"What did she say?"

"Pretty much the same things you're trying to say, but right now I don't feel myself too terribly inclined to believe it." As he spoke, he clasped his hands together and looked out across the park. "Strange, but I figured that both she and Sam would turn up and try and read me the riot act, but she didn't."

"Well, don't worry about Sam, he's not around. Instead, he's trying to be there for his assignment, which is what you should be doing," Andrew said.

"What happened to Felicity?" Adam asked.

"Willy confronted her after he fired Jeremy," Andrew said. "After he escorted her off the factory grounds, Sam felt it best that he go and keep an eye on her."

"Willy confronted her?" Adam asked.

"Yes, and according to Sam, it was not an overtly positive series of events to witness," Andrew said. "Adam, there's something you need to know about Felicity Jacobs."

"What?"

"You know that she's being oppressed?"

"Yes, she told me that earlier," he said.

"Did she tell you why?" Andrew asked.

"Ironically, she did," Adam said. "She told me that Jeremy claims to have seen her murder his brother. She went on to say that she could not remember the rest. Anyway, after all that came out, I tried to encourage her to go and speak with Willy about it."

"She did, but he still threw her out," Andrew said.

"Why?" Adam asked.

"He didn't think she was telling him the truth, but Adam, she was," Andrew said softly. "I was there that night Richard Cooper died, but there were other events that Felicity could not remember, because her drink had been spiked. These events were pretty bad, bordering on heinous in nature. When this assignment started, Sam, Clarence Bucket, and I met in God's Country and were talking about it. We were trying to figure out a way to stop Jeremy from tormenting her even further."

"Nobody told me that," Adam said.

"Because we didn't want to overburden you with what would have happened had you not been able to reach Willy," he explained. "He is your assignment, and now the real challenge lies before us."

"What do you mean?"

"We have to get Willy to listen to Felicity," Andrew said.

"He's not going to, Andrew," Adam mused sadly. "Willy's closed himself completely off from everyone, and now because of what you said, I realize that Felicity's the victim in all of this, not Willy. I don't think anyone will be able to reach him now, least of all, me," Adam whispered.

"Adam, I know you tried," Andrew said.

"I did, but it was all wrong," Adam responded. "Nothing happened the way it was supposed to or the way I anticipated. Well, I guess that put to rest any thoughts that anyone might have had about me being an effective Caseworker. The truth is, I've got no other alternatives than to just give up and go back to doing what I have done for the last five centuries."

"You can't give up," Andrew said. "Sometimes things happen for reasons that we don't know, but that doesn't mean that they shouldn't have happened."

Adam lowered his head. "I don't know about that anymore, Andrew, I really don't. I wish I knew what to do next, but I don't. This assignment started out as something that was a challenge as well as monumentally interesting. Willy Wonka is perhaps one of the most fascinating people I have ever encountered, and I was so hopeful that I would be able to do something to help him. All I did was destroy him as well as his life's work."

"If you believe that, then you will never be able to help him," Andrew said softly. "I'm going to tell you exactly what happened the night that Felicity's life changed. Perhaps that will help you reach Willy somehow." At that moment, he began to relate the series of events of that fateful night.

As Andrew was speaking, he glanced over to see a familiar blond headed boy standing and staring over at the two of them from a safe distance. Finished his explanation, he took a deep breath. "I don't want to leave you hanging, Adam, but the Father thinks I should go and talk to Charlie now."

"Then you should," Adam said softly. "You gave me a great deal to think about, though, but I'm not sure I'm ready to go back."

Andrew nodded but got to his feet. He turned back around and looked at his friend. "I'll see you later."

The older of the two angels responded with a simple nod of his head as well as a shrug of his shoulders. When no verbal response emerged from him, Andrew walked slowly away leaving him where he was; slouched even further into himself with his head lowered.

He paid no attention to his friend, who was walking towards the little boy, his intention clearly to engage the child in dialogue.


	21. Chapter 20: Childlike Innocence

_Hello and welcome to the latest installment. This chapter sort of dropped out of nowhere, and I felt that it was a good way to tie the story back to Charlie's and his family without him actually meeting up with Willy again. I needed some way to get Adam to return to the case, and the words of a five-year-old boy seemed the ideal way to accomplish what I had set out to do._

_At any rate, I hope that you all enjoy the latest installment and hope that this will continue to capture your interest. I appreciate all the reviews that you have been leaving for me and am grateful for the well thought out comments that you folks have been leaving.

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**Chapter 20: Childlike Innocence**

After several moments had passed, Andrew had reached where the child was standing. Now, instead of staring over at the bench where he and Adam had been seated, the little boy was gazing up at him in wide-eyed innocence.

"Hello, Charlie," he said softly.

"Hi, Mister Angel," the boy responded politely, but took a step away from him. Andrew concluded that either child was afraid of or intimidated by him. Perhaps he did not expect that an angel would actually pay him any mind, yet Andrew had and now the boy seemed to be a bit taken aback by this turn of events.

"You don't have to call me that," he objected as an enchanted smile stretched across his face. "My name is Andrew. Are you afraid of me?"

"No, there was this lady who told me about you," Charlie responded.

"So you know that I am an angel, but like you, angels also have names, and I think Tess told you mine."

"Uh-huh," the boy responded as he looked around the area somewhat fearfully.

"Could we talk for a few minutes, Charlie?" Andrew asked, thus trying to distract the child away from his nervousness.

"What about?" Charlie asked. "How I saw you with my dad?"

"If you want, but why don't we sit down and I can tell you everything you need to know about him?" Andrew motioned towards a nearby bench. The boy nodded but managed to follow Andrew's lead.

Once they had seated themselves, Andrew fleetingly glanced across the park and noticed that Adam's stance had not changed. Instead of commenting on the state of his friend, he looked at the child. "I met your mother."

"Really? Does she know who you are like I do?" Charlie asked.

"No, and sometimes people don't really need to know unless God wants them to. At any rate, He wanted me to tell you that He loves you very much and that your father is very happy in Heaven. Today, your dad is watching over you and he will continue to do so for the rest of your life." He smiled slightly. "You see, some people, like your mother, can often feel or sense that there is an angel with them, but it takes a little bit of time for them to fully recognize it. Children somehow are more receptive to our presence, which is why you could see me with your dad and your mother and grandparents could not."

Instead of speaking, Charlie reached an innocent hand out with the intention of touching Andrew's arm. Somehow the physical knowing that the angel was next to him was enough to make him believe that this was all real and not make believe. Andrew inched his way over and soon felt the soft fingertips of the little boy against his upper arm. Feeling this, Andrew placed his free hand atop Charlie's and began to rub it reassuringly. For several moments, they sat this way, the silence somehow swallowing them up.

After several moments had passed, the boy began to pull his hand away. Noticing this, Andrew raised his hand as the boy's voice broke into his thoughts. "You really saw my mom?" He asked.

Andrew nodded slowly. "Yes, I met her. You see, I've been stopping in at the laundry house where she works and talking to her, several times since your father went to Heaven," Andrew said. "She seems to be doing better and has come to recognize that Gertrude is as much her friend as she was someone who once worked with your father."

"My mom works a lot," the boy said sadly somehow connecting the word with the present conditions he was force to live under. "But, we still have to eat cabbage water all the time because Grandma Josephine says that that's all we have."

"That's not easy for you, is it?" Andrew asked.

"I guess not," Charlie said with his head lowered. Unconsciously, the unshed tears got caught beneath his eyes. With one hand, he haphazardly wiped it over his eyes, thus smearing the moisture away. "I miss my dad."

"I know you do, and I wish I could say something that might make you feel a little bit better, but I don't think I can. What I did tell you just now was the truth. I cannot say much more than that, but I can tell you that your life is going to change. I can't say when, where, or how, but I can tell you that one day, everything is going to get better for you and your family," he said.

"Really?"

"Oh yes," Andrew said as he cast another glance towards where Adam still sat. Unlike their topic of discussion, he could not help but ponder how his friend's stance had not changed at all. His body was still hunched over his lap and his head was lowered.

Charlie's eyes followed the angel's and soon he was staring at Adam as well. "Andrew, who is that?"

"That's my friend, Adam," Andrew explained. "Do you remember when Tess told you that God had sent Willy Wonka an angel?"

"Yeah, I got kind of scared when she said that because I thought he was gonna die," the boy confessed sadly.

"No, not everyone who sees an angel is going to die, Charlie," Andrew said softly. "Adam is Willy Wonka's angel."

"He is?" Charlie asked after studying Adam's stance for several moments. "He looks kind of sad to be an angel."

"Yes, well actually, he is rather unhappy right now. Sometimes angels are sad, just like humans," Andrew said.

"Why is he sad?"

"Well, Adam has been trying to help Mr. Wonka, but doesn't think that he's been doing a very good job of it. You see, right now Mr. Wonka is very unhappy and Adam thinks he's at fault for it. So, I guess he came to this park and has been trying to figure out what he's going to do next."

"I thought angels always knew what they were going to do," Charlie said innocently. "How come Mr. Wonka is so sad?"

"That's hard to say, but I can tell you that only God is perfect, so Adam thinks he made a really bad mistake, which made Mr. Wonka sad. Sometimes when we make a mistake, we have a tendency to lose hope and run out of ideas as to what might make things better again."

"Is there anything I can do?" Charlie asked.

"Well, yes, there actually is," Andrew smiled. "You could go over there and talk to him. It might help. You see, I tried and Tess tried, but he's rather stubborn. I thought maybe you have something that we don't."

"But, I'm just a kid, I can't help an angel," he objected.

"Of course you can." He paused as he pressed the tips of his fingers on one hand against his lips. Lowering them, he continued speaking. "You have a wisdom that he might need. Who knows, maybe you could say something to him that would encourage him to go and finish his assignment."

"Assignment?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, that's what we call them; they are like tasks or errands that the Father gives to us while we're here on Earth," he said smiling. He dug in his pocket and extracted a Wonka bar. "Maybe this will help you along. I happen to know that you both have a weakness for chocolate."

"If you really think it'll help," Charlie said as he accepted the candy. He glanced over and stared at Adam for several seconds before turning back around. As soon as he did, he noticed that Andrew was gone and he was now alone.

Instead of pondering where the blond headed angel had disappeared off to, Charlie stood up, his gaze never faltering away from the bench where Adam was still seated. With the candy bar still clenched tightly in his fist, he started to slowly make his way across the meadow in the direction of where Adam sat.

As he reached the other angel, he took in the salt and pepper hair that domed the angel's head. Andrew had relayed his friend's name, but still the child wondered what to say and if his presence would actually help. It was now abundantly clear that the elder of the two angels looked pretty unhappy. Taking a deep breath, Charlie realized how the distance from which he had observed both angels did little justice to the misery that now shadowed Adam's face.

"H-hi," the boy spoke bashfully, thus causing Adam raise his head.

"Hello," the downtrodden angel spoke, his voice laced in weariness.

"Can I sit with you?" Charlie asked.

Before Adam could so much as offer a response, the boy plopped himself down on the bench and began to unwrap the candy bar. For his part, Adam began to watch as the impoverished boy carefully unwrapped the candy. During this time, he could not help but ponder what Andrew had told him when they had spoken.

He watched as the boy broke off a small bite of the chocolate and placed it on his tongue and allowed it to melt there, a look of joy briefly crossing his face. After several seconds, he looked at Adam. "You want some?"

Adam took a deep breath. "No, thank you."

"Are you sure?" The boy pressed. "I'll share because chocolate always makes me feel better when I'm sad and – and, well, you look kind of sad."

"I'll be fine," he said, trying all the while to sound more encouraging than he felt.

"I hope so," Charlie mused. "I mean; since you're an angel and all, I thought it would be really awful if you were sad. People sort of look to you for hope, even if we're mad or hurt."

"You know that I'm an angel?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, Andrew told me. He was with my dad when he died," Charlie confessed. "He said that you were having a bad day and thought I should come talk to you. I don't know why, 'cause I'm just a kid, and not very good at this."

"I think you're alright," Adam said. "But, Andrew's right, I've not been having a very good day." He watched as Charlie broke off some of the candy and nudged him with his elbow. Instead of telling the child that he didn't wish for any of the candy, Adam simply extended his hand so that the child could place the piece of chocolate in the flat palm of his hand.

Wordlessly, Adam took a bite of the candy and allowed the soothing flavor of the Wonka bar to fill his mouth. This had been his first taste of anything sweet since taking this particular assignment. This seemed almost ironic since during the course of the week, he had been occupying himself at the factory of one of the greatest confectioners around.

After several moments, the boy's voice broke into his contemplations. "Is there candy in Heaven?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Adam said softly. For some reason, he looked away from where the boy was sitting, his gaze coming to rest on a group of people who were playing Frisbee with a black Labrador Retriever. Taking in their actions, he found himself taking a deep breath as his gaze shifted until he spotted a couple sitting on a blanket enjoying the afternoon sunshine.

Life just keeps going on, contrary to all the heartache that people like Charlie and Willy had to endure. Somehow they always seemed to find the courage to continue on. Perhaps this, if anything, was a harsh reminder to the angel that he must also persevere. Charlie had found a reason to smile even though he was grieving, and perhaps that was the example that he was expected to, at the very least, accept, but at the very most, embrace.

As the simple questions and statements that had emerged from the boy resonated around him, Adam was reminded that it was not his actions that had caused the problems to come about, but perhaps it was free will. He watched as the black colored dog gaily raced around the meadow, the games and joy somehow enfolding him. Free will was not just a privilege given to humans, but was embedded in angels as well. He turned away from his observations as he regarded the boy. "Thank you so much for coming and talking to me, Charlie. You really helped."

"I did?" The boy asked.

"Yes, you did, you reminded me that life does continue, regardless of how difficult or trying it may be," he smiled as she started to get up. The voice of the child suddenly stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Do you know why you are unhappy?" He asked.

"In some ways I do, but in others I don't. You see, I thought all this time that I had let down Willy Wonka, and then God, but it was myself. I wanted to be perfect and do everything right. When I didn't, I thought I had disappointed God," Adam said.

"But even if God gets upset, He still loves us, right?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, he does, but when I didn't listen to Him I thought I had made Him mad," Adam said.

"Did you get into trouble?" The boy asked as he handed another bite of chocolate to the angel.

"No, everyone understood," Adam said.

"But, you didn't," came the blunt retort.

"I suppose I didn't, did I?" The angel mused. "Generally if I make a mistake, the supervisors get upset, but Sam hasn't been around and Tess didn't seem to be upset when we spoke. I always assumed that they don't even have to say anything because I know that I had done something wrong. But, no one said anything."

"Maybe you're the only one who believes that you messed up," Charlie said bluntly.

"You know, maybe that's it, Charlie," Adam said. "So now I have to rectify things with my assignment, otherwise, I could be denying him something important."

He looked down at the half empty candy bar and then back at Charlie. "You're very smart."

Charlie shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the angel. "You feel better now?"

"Absolutely, and I really do appreciate your help," Adam said.

Charlie smiled slightly, but his gaze was once again on the candy that rested in his lap. Somehow, young Charlie Bucket knew that if there ever came a day when he had done something wrong that he would always remember that conversation.

After several seconds had passed, he looked at the angel. "You gonna try. I mean; if you're really Mr. Wonka's angel like Tess and Andrew said, then he's really gonna need you a lot. Just don't tell me that you are going to take him away like Andrew took my dad. Someday I really want to meet him."

Adam smiled and nodded. "I think one day you will, Charlie. Just keep the faith. I should probably get going, but before I do, God wants me to tell you something else."

"What?"

"You don't have to look for angels anymore. He will always send you one when you need help the most," he said gently.

"I just wanted to know if my dad was okay," the boy whispered.

"He's surrounded by love, Charlie, and as long God is nearby, then he'll always be fine," He paused for several moments before continuing. "You take care, and thank you for sharing your candy with me."

"You're welcome," he said before reaching out and embracing Adam. Seconds later, he got up and started walking off in the direction of home. Turning back around, he waved to the man still seated on the bench. "Bye Adam."

"Good-bye Charlie," he said softly as the boy rounded a group of trees and disappeared in the distance.

The Father always knows just what I need, Adam thought as he stood up. Sending out his prayer of thanks, the angel felt a new sense of determination somehow enveloping him and with a smile now gracing his lips, Adam glanced once more around the park before disappearing and reappearing inside the Inventing Room at Willy's factory.

This time, instead of being dressed in the dark brown pants as well as a beige colored sweatshirt, he was dressed in a light beige colored suit and tie. His hair was neatly combed and his blue eyes now shone with joy. At that moment, he knew that one day Charlie Bucket's life would somehow intertwine with that of his assignment.

If it did happen that way, it would be richly deserved, he thought as he set out to finding Willy and telling him the truth. In the back of his mind, questions continued to ravage him. Would the chocolatier even listen? He was not at all certain, but this did not stop him from leaving the Inventing Room and making his way down the various corridors, which would lead him to where his assignment presently was.

There was so much he now wanted to say to the confectionary genius, not just tell him the truth about why he was present, but also to inform him of the shocking revelations that Andrew had relayed to him about Felicity Jacobs.


	22. Chapter 21: The Truth Emerges

_Before you read this chapter, __**please take discretion**__. Although there is nothing here that is violent, there is mention of adult themes in the chapter. Since it is a very important chapter in the story, I am hopeful that you will not be offended or put out with the mention of said themes. If anything, it will add fuel to the 'Jeremy is scum' meter._

_Enjoy and please review. I would really like to know if you liked the pace I took here.

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**Chapter 21: The Truth Emerges**

During this time, Willy had returned to his living quarters. As he entered the large sitting room, he found the book that he had snatched away from Felicity now lying untouched on the coffee table. Seeing it made tears unconsciously sting his eyes.

It was perhaps that moment when he realized that he had lost everything. His business was in shambles, but this did not compare to the aching that was now manifested in his heart. The lost recipe was no longer important to him, but Felicity was and he had pushed her away.

Pushed her away just as he had done with just about every person who had ever come to mean anything to him.

God forgive me, he thought sadly as the awareness of how much he had lost once again washed over him. He had single-handedly destroyed whatever happiness he might have found with her.

Dejected, he picked up the book and hugged it tightly to his chest as he spoke, his words now filling the hollowness of the empty room. "'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I'm sorry I could not travel both'." As he whispered the first line of Robert Frost's poem, 'The Road Not Taken', he could feel his chest unconsciously tightening as the words faded.

At that moment, he began to run his hands over the book as he took a deep breath. It felt like ages since he had seen her, yet it had only been several hours at the most.

As opposed to speaking again, Willy eventually released the hold that he had on the book. The object fell to the floor and landed with a soft thud.

"I'm ruined," he whispered as he stared across the room towards the window. "I have to close the factory, there's nothing left for me now."

As he spoke, the door behind him slowly opened and closed as Adam came into the room. The angel watched as his assignment seated himself on the sofa and allowed his elbows to rest against his knees, the flat palms of his hands cradling his chin. This reminded Adam of the manner in which he had sat in the park and stared out across the meadow. Somehow there existed a strange sort of parallel between him and the chocolatier.

Coming even further into the room, Adam took a deep breath as he came around the sofa and stood over where the confectioner was seated. The first thing he noticed was that the curly-headed man's eyes now closed and he apparently had no idea that he was no longer alone.

The silence continued to fill the room until the angel leaned down and retrieved the book before placing it on the table. "'Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius'."

As the simple quotation filled the room, Willy abruptly raised his head and stared at the angel. Instead of demanding how or why Adam had returned, he simply looked away, his gaze now staring down at his feet. "Go away," he whispered, his voice laced in defeat. "Please, just leave me be."

Not heeding his assignment's words, Adam continued as though the confectioner had not uttered a single word. "I take it you've never heard that one. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart said it, and perhaps it seems fitting to the tragic end of his life as well as the loss of love and devotion that he had once possessed."

"What are you doing in here?" Willy found his voice and spoke, his words much weaker than he had intended.

"I came back to find you," Adam said.

"Why?" Willy asked, his voice now laced in a mixture of defeat and aggravation. "So you can tell me again how you betrayed my trust and lied to me?"

"No, actually those thoughts had never really crossed my mind," Adam said as he took a deep breath. "Willy, there are several things that I have to tell you before I leave, and I ask only that you listen to me while I try to explain. The fact is, we may be running short on time."

"Why?"

"Because Felicity Jacobs' life may now be at stake," he said simply.

Willy turned away from him, but not before Adam saw the unmistakable pain that shadowed his face. "Is this another lie?" He eventually asked, all the while trying to conceal the evidence of pain that still lurked in the recesses of his heart.

"I don't lie," Adam said firmly. "Yet, it seems to me that you're far too stubborn and angry to actually listen to reason." He paused as he took a deep breath. "Tell me truthfully; Willy, do you honestly believe that Felicity Jacobs is a spy?"

"I don't know," Willy began. "Jeremy said…"

"…Yes, Jeremy said," Adam interrupted, his voice now laced in dryness. "Strange how it is that you put more emphasis on a man who mistreats women and destroys your work than on the words Felicity, Gertrude or I have said."

"That's not it," Willy objected.

"Isn't it? The first thing you said after I asked you if you believed that Felicity is a spy was that Jeremy had said that she was after something. Well, Jeremy has said a lot of things about her, none of which have been true. It's truly amazing, but the longer I have been here, the more I have come to the unhappy conclusion that you will not listen to anyone except Jeremy. The people who have tried to get you to listen to reason have been completely ignored and later, you have yelled at them for no reason whatsoever." He paused as he went back around the sofa and retrieved the slip of paper that Willy had confronted Felicity about.

Walking back over to where he was seated, he continued. "Felicity tried to tell you that she didn't have this, but you did not believe her. Perhaps this will be all the proof that you will need regarding that particular accusation." He handed the piece of paper to the confectioner before continuing. "It seems that while this poor young woman has tried to prove her worth and trustworthiness, you had already made up your mind about her."

Willy felt the slip of paper being pressed into his hand as recognition washed over him. Stared down at his familiar script, he spoke. "She didn't have it?"

"No, she had no idea that it even existed," Adam said softly. As opposed to continuing along the same line of discussion, he shook his head sadly as he took a deep breath and his eyes met those of the heartbroken chocolatier. "May I ask you a question?"

"What?"

"It's more an observation than a question actually, but it's something that I could not help but notice from the first moment I came here. You have this remarkable gift of instinct. This instructs you to use certain ingredients to create confectionary masterpieces. Is that not right?"

"What does that have to do with this recipe or Felicity?" The chocolatier asked.

"It actually has a great deal to do with both as it is my rationale for coming. I wanted to explain the reason through words that you would understand. You understand candy, and ideas, as depicted in Wolfgang's quotation. That leaves me to infer that you are a very intelligent man, yet, somehow I have reached the conclusion that you are forgetting something extremely valid here," Adam said.

"And what is that?"

"The voice in your heart." Emerged the simple response.

"What do you mean?"

"It is that voice that tells you that sugar is better for a confection than salt. It not only advises you on the best way to make candy or even running this business, but it also resonates with truth regarding other issues in life. That same voice tells you who is to be trusted and who has yet to earn it. Contrary to all of that, Felicity Jacobs does love you, and right now, she needs you more than she's ever needed anyone else before."

"Who told you that?" Willy asked.

"My conscience," Adam said. "If you still doubt my sincerity regarding voices inside, I knew from another source. Felicity told me that she not only cared for you, but that she was falling in love with you." He paused. "She wanted to tell you that, but, instead of speaking with her, you asked me to go and fetch Jeremy Cooper and bring him to see you. I did as you requested, contrary to my intuition telling me that this was unwise.

"The point is, I do know and realize that you are a victim in all of this, as well, but you have forgotten completely about Felicity. She wanted to tell you everything that was in her heart, but she was afraid and basically needed the truth coaxed out of her."

"Why?" Willy asked softly.

"Because she feared that you would reject her anyway," Adam said plainly. "Your reaction to her right after you spoke to Jeremy showed beyond any doubt that her worries were completely justified."

"How do you know about what happened?" Willy asked. "You weren't even there when we spoke."

"I didn't have to be, I saw you afterwards and could pretty much infer what had happened," Adam said. "One thing is clear, at least her believing that you hate her will make it much easier for her to run away from here. This is not what was intended, she was to stop running, and discover the truth. Instead, she believes that there exists no place for her and the option remaining is to run away."

"She said she loved me, just before I made her leave," Willy whispered. "I thought I was doing the right thing for the sake of the factory. The truth is, I don't know what that is anymore."

The angel nodded as understanding washed over him. "Perhaps you should listen to the voice of your conscience. As a result, Felicity has carried the burden of two men on her shoulders. She has already had enough people turning away from her and now I know that she doesn't need anymore."

"How do you know all of this?" Willy asked weakly. "Is it because you work for Arthur Slugworth?" He paused. "That's the only conclusion that I could reach about you. I mean; why must you try to destroy me in this way? There are no business advantages to it. All that exists is the risk of breaking my heart, and that has already been done."

"Let us get one thing straight before we continue with this conversation. You know that I once worked for Uncle Dudley at 'Taffy Town'. That information was listed in my paperwork when you interviewed me a week ago. Perhaps you researched this further after you gave me a job. Yet, I must reiterate that I have not now, nor ever, worked for Arthur Slugworth, I have never even met him." He paused before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Before you inquire as to whether or not I had contact with your other competitors, I do not know any of them either."

"I already told you that I didn't know who to believe," Willy said defensively. "I'm sorry if my questions seem wrong to you, but I don't even know who you work for."

"I work for God, William," Adam said simply as the light of God's love washed over him and filled the room. Seconds slowly passed as Willy raised his head to see the light as the angel regarded him through compassionate blue eyes. Instead of allowing his assignment to stare with questions still consuming him, he continued. "I'm an angel, sent by God."

"You're an angel?" Willy asked dully as he swallowed and tried to find the words he wanted to say. As he did, he allowed his body to collapse against the cushions of his sofa. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here because God loves you and He wants you to know that no matter what happens or what the future may bring, you will always be His beloved child." Taking a deep breath, he continued. "You know, when I first came inside this remarkable factory, I was amazed by what you had accomplished with the gifts that you possess. These are very precious things, Willy, so precious that it is completely understandable that you would be fearful of loosing them before you could share them with the rest of the world. God would not want to take that away from you because He gave you the gift of spreading joy to children and adults alike. He has not forgotten you, even in those moments when you forget Him."

"But He's the one who let all of this happen," the chocolatier whispered.

"No, 'free will' is what let it happen. God did not want you to experience the pain and suffering from all of this, He loves you. He wants you to know that words that may sound like or seem like the truth are not always going to _be_ the truth. He is the truth and sometimes He whispers it into your heart and lets you choose whether or not to allow that to guide you.

"The first time I came into this factory, I recognized that there were two individuals who have tried to let you know what has been going on. One of them was Gertrude and the other was Felicity. You may not believe it, but in her own way, and contrary to being terrified about opening up to you, Felicity was trying to tell you what was happening."

"Felicity," Willy whispered the woman's name as he shook his head. "It's probably too late to rectify things with her, much less with the others."

"Well, although it may be too late to bring the others back, it's not too late for you to find her," he said as he pulled the pocket watch from his jacket and flipped up the lid. Regarding the numbers for several moments, he continued speaking. "At least not yet."

"Why didn't she just tell me what she had been through?"

"She tried, but she didn't know the whole story. She feared that you would not believe that her memory loss was a feasible explanation for all of it." He paused. "Do you want to know what really happened to her that night? It is something that she does not yet recall."

"Are you going to tell her?" Willy asked.

"No, that's not my assignment," Adam said with an adamant shake of his head.

"Your assignment?" Willy asked softly. "I don't understand."

"I think you do," Adam said. "The time is perhaps at hand for you to really listen to your heart, Willy. What is it saying?"

"It's saying that – that I'm your assignment," he said softly. When Adam nodded, he continued. "But I'm not the one who needs an angel, Felicity is. You should go to her."

"No, you need an angel as much as she does, and for the longest time I pondered if I was the right one," Adam said as the light that surrounded him faded. ""Felicity has an angel too, his name is Sam and he's been watching over her since she left the factory."

"I feel so badly about what I did to her," Willy said truthfully. "Anymore I don't really know why I did it at all."

"Maybe you did it because you were afraid to allow yourself to truly love another person," Adam said bluntly. "You are both afraid of what might happen, of what could be. But perhaps I should tell you what really happened so that you can decide once and for all what you are going to do."

"You're going to tell me what happened to her?" Willy asked weakly.

"Yes," Adam nodded. "It was a terrible series of events and something that no human being should ever have to experience, but she did, with all the courage that was inside of her. Now that courage is wavering."

Willy nodded, but with a strength that he did not know he possessed, he spoke, his voice laced in resolve. "Tell me, please."

Nodding, the angel began to speak. "As you know, Jeremy has been using his brother's death as a means of oppressing Felicity. She's been running away from him and trying to live a normal life, but this is slowly becoming more and more difficult for her to do. Now, she has reached the point where there is no feasible way for her to exist without the past coming back to haunt her. With Jeremy Cooper in her midst, this young woman will continue to be told lies about that night instead of being able to confront the truth."

"What is the truth?"

"Felicity Jacobs did not murder Richard Cooper," Adam said simply. "This is a very plain and simple truth, but now she has been forced into an ideology that claims that she did." He paused, but took a deep breath before continuing. "Several weeks before Richard died, he and Jeremy had been experimenting with various kinds of drugs. These use of these drugs caused him to become aggressive and this was generally taken out on Felicity. After getting beat up a few too many times, she finally decided that she couldn't take it anymore and planned to end the relationship. When Jeremy caught wind of her intentions, he told his brother as well as one of their friends."

Willy listened as the angel continued speaking. "It was during that conversation, that the three men spoke of getting even with her as a way of salvaging Richard's wavering pride. This included a plan of taking her to a bar, spiking her drink, and then raping her."

"They were going to do that?" Willy asked curiously. "Just because she wanted to end the relationship?"

"Yes, and when they got to the bar in question, things went from bad to worse for all of them. Jeremy managed to spike the drink and once she had tasted it, she began to act strangely, her body having a strange reaction to the drug. Soon after that, the three men took her outside. Once they had reached the alleyway where they were going to assault her, Richard was in the midst of suffering a heart attack and falling to the ground. He died instantly." He paused before continuing. "My friend, Andrew was his Angel of Death, and he saw everything that had happened that night. Richard's body could not handle the combination of the drugs and alcohol and that was, ultimately, the cause of his death. At any rate, after the funeral, Jeremy tried to find someone to blame for what had happened to his brother and that's where he got the idea of making Felicity believe that she was at fault. It was then when he began to concoct all the stories saying that she was the one who murdered his brother."

"Oh my God," Willy whispered, but when he looked at Adam, his face flushed to that of an even paler shade of white. "Sorry, that wasn't intended."

"Perhaps it was," Adam said gently as he reached over and touched Willy's shoulder. "He understands your shock, Willy."

"What happened to Felicity after Richard died?" Willy eventually recovered and managed to ask.

"Well, Jeremy and their friend were suddenly distracted and tried to get Richard to stand back up. Felicity, although still present, was under the influence of the drugs to such an extent that she could not recall what specifically was happening. Instead, she was sitting on the ground when a woman happened by. This woman had witnessed everything that had transpired and took it upon herself to get involved. That is, she saw Richard on the ground and had rushed into the bar to call an ambulance. Having accomplished this, she returned outside and got Felicity out of the area.

"When she woke up the following morning, she was in a strange place and had no recollections of where she was or what had happened the night before. The woman who found her felt that it would be too traumatic to relate what she had seen, so she kept everything about it to herself. That was close to year ago and that may perhaps explain the time span between Felicity leaving home and then arriving here in this town. Once she had managed to settle herself in a nondescript location, she applied for a job at the factory and the rest you know."

Willy covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head. "I can only surmise that what happened after she started working for me was how Jeremy showed up and started filling her mind with lies. Somehow he has managed to convince her that her memory loss stemmed from having done something terribly wrong. And I believed him. What sort of person am I anyway?"

In response to this, Adam reached over and rested his hand on the chocolatier's shoulder. "You are a good person, you just didn't know the whole story. You did not know that what Jeremy Cooper had said was never the truth. You learned in a very harsh manner that sometimes there really is an explanation to these things."

"In other words, I'm no better than Jeremy, am I?" He asked softly. "Is that what God sent you to tell me?"

"No," Adam said. "He sent me to tell you that He loves you, and that I have already affirmed. You basically reacted as you thought was best, but I would be lying if I said that it didn't leave an impact, because it did."

"We have to go and find Felicity," Willy said softly. "I have to at least try to explain. Do you know where she went?"

The angel nodded. "Yes."

"Then I need to go there now," Willy said as he placed the recipe on the table and got to his feet. "Listen, Adam, I-I know that you said something about free will earlier, but could you take me to where she is? In all honesty, I don't think I'm really in the proper frame of mind to drive."

Adam offered an understanding smile, "Of course, but we have to hurry."

Nodding, the chocolatier and the angel left the room.


	23. Chapter 22: Reaping and Sowing

_Hello everyone, and welcome to the next chapter of this story. I am sorry that it's taken some time to continue, but during the last week we bought a new computer and haven't been able to do much of anything except get everything transferred over. Now that they are, we can continue. Please let me know what you think. I love this chapter, Tess is in prime attitude form…read on. We'll continue with Willy and Felicity in the next update. Onlyaman, the change has been made.  


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**Chapter 22: Reaping and Sowing**

At the same instant Adam was speaking with Willy, Tess had arrived at the halfway house where she had been sent to work during the course of the assignment. She had been instructed to stay away from Jeremy until the appropriate time presented itself so that she may approach him. Contrary to popular opinion, an angel in human form stood just as great a risk at getting hurt as any human could.

Notwithstanding the fact that Jeremy Cooper had a similar mental capacity as an average time bomb. It was clear that he was nearing the point of detonation and his chosen actions back in the inventing room were case and point to that assertion. This left her with the only option she knew and that was to keep her angelic status under wraps.

On that particular day, instead of being inside, she had opted to working out in the garden. The weeds were coming up like gangbusters and this would serve as a good cover for her if, or when, there happened to be a confrontation between herself and her assignment.

She had heard from Andrew about the incident at the laundry house and was now wary as to what Jeremy might try next. It seemed abundantly clear that he was the biggest chauvinist around and perhaps would not take her seriously.

Still seated on the ground, Tess' dark eyes seemed to be constantly shifting from her work to the activities just outside of the neighboring building.

Although she was still quite worried about Adam's well being, she knew that the Father was in control of that particular situation. Her faith in Him told her that He would make certain that her angel boy was going to be alright even if she was unable to render assistance at that moment.

For about twenty minutes, the angel waited until Jeremy emerged from the adjacent building. As he came outside, she could not help but notice his unkempt appearance and the start of a beard that lined his face. Something was happening with the young man, and she pondered what that something might have been.

She watched as he tried to inconspicuously make his way over to the car that was parallel parked along the curb. He's going to run away, she concluded as the trunk was opened and several boxes were stacked inside before it was slammed resolutely. Gripping a weed, she pulled, but her gaze remained on the man as he stacked another box in the backseat.

Perhaps Jeremy Cooper figures that Felicity Jacobs would be making a mad dash out of town and his motivation was to follow her to the ends of the earth. After all, she was his golden goose. He seemed to have no problems with using her to get whatever he could out of her.

Tess' mouth turned downward in an angry scowl as she continued to watch from a safe distance as the man finished tossing his things into the backseat and opened the front door with the intention of getting behind the wheel and cranking the motor. The supervising angel could not forget the heartbreak that seemed evident in Adam's face just before he had disappeared from Willy's factory. This broke her heart, and even knowing that, she could not do much of anything, except give Jeremy a fine dose of anger mixed with the proper amount of attitude.

Sighing, she continued to observe the one person who had basically been the catalyst to all of their sorrow and heartache.

Raising her head, she watched as Jeremy turned the key in the ignition in an attempt to start the car. A small chuckle almost burst from her as the car made a sound that remotely paralleled the hiccups before completely dying off. As this was happening, the angel's eyes brightened considerably as she got to her feet and began dusting herself off.

After several moments, she nodded silently before walking slowly over to where the car was parked. Jeremy was still seated behind the wheel and trying, without much luck at getting the motor to start. After several attempts it still did not happen and she smiled slightly as she came even closer to the car. Standing about a meter away, she managed to peer in through the half opened window. Her dark eyes took in the interior of the car as her nose immediately detected the strange odors of nicotine and booze.

Before she could so much as utter a sound, the man began to swear.

"Damn it," he muttered as he opened the door and hastily got out. "The more time I waste messing with this stupid thing, the further away she's gonna get." Leaning back over, he found the lever that was just under the steering column and pressing it, he popped the hood. As these sounds filled the air, he bypassed Tess and went over, lifted the hood, and stared down at the various parts of the engine. Sighing, he began to jiggle about with several of the wires and cables.

With a quick once over, he readjusted several of them before closing the hood, and hastily getting back behind the wheel.

Tess continued to watch all the while pondering why it was that the man's actions had not raised questions among the other tenants. Seconds later, the car roared to life, only to sputter out in an automotive version of gasping and wheezing. Despite herself, she smiled ironically as he began to swear under his breath a second time and banged his fist against the steering wheel impatiently.

She continued to watch as he repeated the same actions as before. Once he was standing and staring down at the core of his frustration, Tess was given word that she could now approach her assignment.

Taking several steps towards the car, she regarded the situation through amused eyes. A slight smile spread across her face, as she covered her lips with a heavily jeweled hand. Despite her not wanting to, she could no longer conceal the laughter that had overtaken her.

Normally an angel would get into trouble for making fun of her assignment's bad luck. Of course, this was one instance where the Father seemed not to mind, at least that was the signal she was getting. At any rate, as her laughter reached Jeremy's ears, his frustration mounted as he turned around and regarded her with rage filled eyes.

"Did you want something?" He demanded with unhidden annoyance laced in his question.

"No, nothing at all, baby, I just couldn't help but notice that you seem to be having a few problems with your car." As her casual words emerged, she leaned her weight against the side of the vehicle. "It would seem to me that given what I do know about you, that this is a prime example of one reaping what they sow."

"What in the world are you talking about, lady?" Jeremy snapped as he stuck the key into the ignition and tried to start the car yet again.

"Well, I'm talking about your attitude, for starters," Tess said. "After all, you might consider behaving in a much nicer way to your elders."

Jeremy choked. "You sound like my great-grandmother."

"Maybe, but perhaps things would start to work to your advantage if you did practice a little bit of courtesy. Right now, however, I seriously doubt that you would even manage that, since you've been spending so much of your time spreading misery. I suppose niceties are about as foreign to you as Wiener Schnitzel. It's about time some of that expressed hostility comes back to you. You know the old saying about what goes around comes around."

"Oh great, one of those self-righteous wimps who think they know everything," he sneered.

The angel put her hands on her hips. "I'd curb my tongue if I were you," she said impatiently. "You have absolutely no idea with whom you are dealing with, Jeremy Cooper. Right now, I can assure you that I have more than enough attitude for the both of us." Before the man could even ask how she knew his name, she continued. "Yes, I know who you are, and I also know what it is you've done."

"Done? Oh lady, I haven't done anything," he said. At least not yet, he added silently as he regarded her through condescending eyes.

"You haven't huh?" Tess asked. "If that's the case, then why don't you tell me what really happened the night your brother died?" Before he could so much as utter a response, she continued, her voice stern. "Don't even think about telling me that Felicity Jacobs is responsible for it. I happen to know what truth looks like and that is not it at all."

The redness of Jeremy's face deepened as he regarded Tess through hostile eyes. "What do you know?"

"I know plenty," Tess responded. "I know that there was a young lady who was being harassed by you and your friends. I also remember seeing you practically dragging her out of a bar with less than noble intentions after you had spiked her drink with some white powder."

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I am someone who is going to make certain that you will never be able to harm another young lady again," she said firmly. "In case you have not yet figured it out; I am an angel, sent by God to tell you that enough is enough. Too many people have been hurt by your behavior, and I am here to make certain that you will never be able to harm anyone else again."

"An angel, right, well, you don't sound very angelic to me," Jeremy scoffed. "There are no angels. You're probably one of those loony broads who hang out at that cracker factory next door."

"Well, if you don't believe me, then why don't you try and start your car again," she said evenly.

"Okay lady, I will," he said as he turned the key that was still stuck in the ignition. Seconds passed and the car immediately hummed to life without so much as a problem. This made him smirk, but instead of responding to her, he reached for the gear shift with the intention of driving away. As he attempted this, not only did the car stall out, but the hood popped open as the car hiccupped a cloud of gray colored smoke.

As the area was filled with a foul smelling stench, Jeremy noticed that it somehow managed to seep into where he was seated, thus leaving him scrambling to get out before breathing too much of it.

Still coughing, he tried to waft his hand around his face as he began to look for Tess. When he saw her again, his eyes unconsciously widened.

This time instead of wearing gardening clothes, the angel was dressed in the same beige colored gown she had worn when she had spoken to Adam at the factory earlier that day. This time she was not smiling, in fact, her expression was laced with anger and her arms were crossed over her chest as though ready for a confrontation.

"Now that we have reached an understanding here. Tell me what really happened the night your brother died?" She demanded.

"Why should I tell you anything?" He asked.

"Because no matter what happens here, Felicity Jacobs will be told, and it will be her decision as to whether or not to file charges against you," Tess said.

"Who's going to tell her?" He asked. When the angel remained silent and did not offer up a response, Jeremy continued speaking. "That little church mouse isn't going to believe a word anyone else says. The only person she's really going to believe is me. After all, I was there and I made doubly certain that she was too messed up to remember what really happened."

"I don't know, maybe she will find someone whom she can believe in. That is, I think she will discover that there is a person who not only will help her, but who will make certain that the likes of you will never be able to harm or contact her again," Tess said. "Regardless of what you decide to do, Jeremy, something tells me that Felicity is going to discover the truth once and for all, and there may be very little that you can do to stop it from happening. The truth does set one free, and one thing is clear, she will be free from you once that happens."

Jeremy took a deep breath and looked at the angel. "I don't believe you."

"It's true, and your 'golden goose' has finally flown the coop," she said. "Now you have nothing to lose, just tell me what happened that night you spiked her drink and intended to bring physical harm to her."

"She didn't do anything that night, I was just using her, and for the last year, it worked perfectly." As his calm words filled the air, he returned his gaze to the car. "Alright, I said it, so are you going to fix my car now?"

Tess shook her head adamantly. "Sorry, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm an angel, honey, not a mechanic." Instead of speaking further with her assignment, she disappeared, thus leaving him standing and staring down at his, still smoking, car.


	24. Chapter 23: Timing is Everything

_Hello and welcome to the next installment to this story. I have really appreciated the support my readers have been giving me, both here and in private notes and messages. I want to ask that you please review this story. I have tried to put a great deal of work (and emotion) into it._

_I was asked regarding previous chapters if I had experienced something like Felicity, the answer is no, this is all fiction, but I had to come up with something that would show Jeremy to be the ultimate was what came to mind.  
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_With that said, here's one of the more exciting chapters. Please review. Onlyaman, the bit you commeted on has been changed. Thanks for catching it.  


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**Chapter 23: Timing is Everything**

Willy and Adam arrived at Felicity's apartment some ten minutes later. The angel quickly got out of the car and motioned towards the front door of the building. "I'd hurry if I were you, she's inside, but I just saw that Henry's lurking about."

"Henry?" Willy asked. "Who is Henry?"

"He's Felicity's Angel of Death," Adam said. "From what I have been able to ascertain, she's going to try and end her life this afternoon."

"Can't you stop her?" Willy asked.

"No, I cannot interfere with free will," Adam said regretfully. "When I tried to stop Jeremy from destroying the Inventing Room, I ended up getting a knot the size of a ping pong ball on the back of my head." He paused. "Listen, there's really no time for me to explain any of this further, you have to get inside and help her or else my colleague over there will be on active duty."

Willy nodded and without another word, he took off towards the front of the building. Reaching the door, he figured that perhaps it might not even be open. Without contemplating his actions, he pressed his weight up against it as hard as he could. Discovering that it was actually open and gave way, he burst into the building and headed straight towards the door to Felicity's apartment.

Reaching it, Willy could feel that the palms of his hands had begun to sweat; the nervousness that enfolded him, emotionally unbearable. Worse still, he had no idea what was going to happen next. He did know that for all of his mistakes and errs in judgment, the one thing that remained clear was that he was determined not to lose her. He knew that contrary to the fact that he had already lost a great deal, the thought of her dying in this way was more than he could bear. "Felicity!" He called out her name and started banging loudly on the door.

When no one answered, he reached for the lever and pressed it down as hard as he could in the hopes of making the door give way. When he realized that it was still locked, he took a deep breath and tried calling out to her again. "Felicity, it's me, please open the door."

At that moment Sam appeared at the end of the hallway and started walking towards him. It was no secret, the angel had been watching the young woman since he had instructed Andrew to go to the park and wait for Adam.

The angel's overt expression was laced in pity as he regarded the determination that encompassed the man who was now trying to gain access to his assignment's apartment. Approaching, he watched as Willy ceased with the knocking and instead tried to use his weight as leverage to get the door to open. This was the same as he had done outside, but this time it did not work.

After several attempts, he turned away from it to see that Sam was now standing just to the left of him. "I'm not here to steal anything or hurt anyone, but I do need to get inside," he tried to explain, the desperation laced in his words. "I think she's in some kind of trouble."

"I know she is, William," Sam said softly as he dug in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a keychain. As he shifted the various keys around, he inched his way towards the door.

Willy looked at the man and shook his head in astonishment upon being addressed with his given name. The chocolatier knew that since they had never been formally introduced, this man must be the other angel that Adam had spoken of. After several seconds of silence passed between them, he managed to find his voice. "You're one of them, aren't you?" He asked softly.

As Sam raised his head and arched his eyebrows, the chocolatier offered clarification. "I-I mean; you're an angel?"

"Yes, and I'm here to help you," he said calmly.

"I don't need help, Felicity does," Willy whispered.

"Yes, I know, but remember that God has sent many angels to help both you and the young lady. Right now, He has put you in a position of being an angel to her."

"Why me?"

"Why not you?" Sam responded to the question with one of his own. He reached over and rested his hand on Willy's shoulder. "You have a great capacity to love in your heart, and through acknowledging that, you can help someone else. Just believe that you can, and you will."

"But that guy that Adam said was outside," Willy objected. "I-I know about him and what he wants."

"Yes, but realize one thing, his services will not be necessary if you hurry." With that, he stuck the key in the lock and turned it. As soon as the door clicked open, Sam pushed it open and motioned with one hand for Willy to enter. "Go ahead William, you can be an angel to her, as that is what she needs most in the world."

Nodding, the chocolatier entered the apartment and began to take in the run down living room all over again. The moldy ceilings had not changed, but he smiled slightly at the fact that one of the windows was now open and fresh air was wafting into the room.

His attention shifted as he noticed that on the sofa several duffle bags were placed with clothing stacked on top of them. It looked as though the woman was preparing herself to leave for good. For whatever reason, his heart froze at the mere thought of it. In fact, if the truth were known, something did not seem right about this at all.

"Felicity?" He called out her name yet again, but he still did not receive any sort of verbal response. Willy knew that Adam had been right about everything and if there was another angel roaming about, then they all knew that Felicity was intending on ending her life. What if all the luggage on the sofa had been placed there with the sole intention of making the apartment easier to clean out once she was gone?

What if he was too late?

The chocolatier's thoughts immediately shifted back to the Angel of Death's presence, which Adam had spoken of when they had arrived at the apartment building.

Forgetting everything else, he raced through the room and into the kitchen. When he discovered that it was just as empty as the living room, he started to make his way down the hallway in the direction of the bedroom. He was not certain as to why, but something told him that he would find her there, he just hoped that she would still be alive.

Coming into the tiny room, he discovered that she was not there either. Of course, the sounds of water running in the adjacent room soon caught his attention and he turned and started walking towards the door leading into the bathroom.

Reaching it, he noticed that it was closed and pondered if she had locked herself inside. He concluded that perhaps it was open as she was not expecting guests. In case it was locked, he figured that in this run down hovel, the door would easily give way. Taking a deep breath, he extended his hand and placed it on the lever. "Oh God, please don't let me be too late," he whispered under his breath as he slowly opened the door.

What he immediately saw when he entered the room was that she was very much alive, but her back was facing the doorway, her arms trembling like leaves and her shoulders wracking from raw emotion. She was crying softly, but instead of taking note of that, he noticed that she held something in one of her hands that he could not easily decipher.

Stepping even closer to where she was, recognition dawned as he took in a small brown bottle of prescription medication that she held in her hand. He watched as she managed to open the lid and begin dumping the contents into the flat palm of her other hand.

He stood staring for several seconds as the realization dawned on him as to what was about to happen. She was going to take her own life through overdosing on prescription medication.

I won't let you do this, he thought gravely.

Up until this moment, Willy could tell that she had yet to take any of the medicine, but now he could plainly see that she was on the verge of doing so. Her hand was trembling as she moved the mass of tablets closer to her mouth.

Without thinking what he was doing, he took two simple steps towards her and once he stood behind her, he reached out and roughly grabbed both of her wrists. As soon as he had managed, he watched as both the bottle and pills abruptly fell to the floor and clattered against it like the playing pieces in a child's game of marbles.

Feeling a sense of relief washing over him at having stopped her, Willy released a sigh, but this did not last long. Felicity, not seeing who it was who had stopped her, began to scream hysterically, the sounds of her cries now echoing throughout the tiny bathroom. Willy, roughly, began to pull her out of the bathroom and out into the bedroom.

For whatever reason, the chocolatier was not just unhappy, but he was also angry. This anger was not towards the woman, nor could it be formulated with words, but instead it came to light through his actions. He tightened his hold on her wrists as her struggles became all the more adamant.

As this was happening, he tried to turn her around in order to get her to look at him and see that it was he who was trying to help her. When she kept her eyes closed and continued to struggle against him, he ceased this action and continued trying to prevent her from returning to the bathroom.

Suddenly, he cringed when he felt one of her feet striking him against the shin. Stumbling slightly, he tried to get her to turn around. If she could see his face, then perhaps her mind would not be a jumbled up mess stemming from her past experiences. She could still not see his face and instead of allowing her to continue screaming, he released one of her wrists and clamped his hand tightly over her mouth.

As these piercing sounds were suddenly muffled, the chocolatier managed to pull her back out into the bedroom. Without thinking of what he was doing or why, he kicked the bathroom door closed as he felt her body trembling from beneath his hold.

Trying to ignore this, Willy leaned over and began to whisper in her ear. "I don't care how much you scream and yell at me, I'm not going to let you kill yourself," he said forcibly. When she continued to struggle against him, he did not react physically, instead he continued speaking. "I have no intention of hurting you Felicity, so do try to calm down."

Instinctively, he pulled her closer so that her head would rest comfortably against his chest. Still with his hand pressed over her mouth, he waited several moments until the screams had subsided and her muffled sobs once again filled his healthy ear. It was at that moment that Willy slowly lowered his hand and rested it on her shoulder, the grip somewhat harder than he intended.

"Let me go," she whimpered softly as she futilely continued to wrestle against him. It was clear that she was beside herself in fear and that resulted in her fighting her way back in the direction of the bathroom.

At that moment, Willy moved his hand and wrapped it gently around her, thus capturing her upper arm and holding it as tightly as he could. As he released the hold he still had on her other wrist, he suddenly realized that that had been a mistake. With one of her arms freed up, she became stronger than he had anticipated and began to thrash about trying to fight against the hold he still maintained.

Moments passed until he abruptly felt his cheek stinging. Opening his eyes, he realized that Felicity had managed to slap him hard across the face before breaking out of his hold and trying to run towards the bathroom door.

For a split second, he cringed but instinctively reached out and grabbed her arm and jerked her away from the door. Another pain filled cry escaped from between her lips as she felt her body once more tumbling back into his arms.

After several seconds had passed, he managed to completely pick her up off the ground only to see that her feet began to kick about trying once more to get away.

Feeling another kick against his shin, he allowed his body to sink back down to the floor, his legs folding beneath him until his shins were protected by the thin carpeting that covered the floor.

Awkwardly, he shifted his weight as he felt her body now coming to rest on his lap and her legs conveniently stretched out front of her. In this stance, there was no way that she could continue her assault against him. Realizing that she was now under his control, she ceased all movement.

"P-please d-don't hurt me," she pleaded the moment they were seated on the ground. She wanted so much to crawl away, but he still held her firmly, the hold never faltering.

Shifting his weight, he managed to pull her so that her head would be resting comfortably against his left shoulder. After several moments of silence, he raised one of his hands and began to stroke her cheek gently, this action contrary to the rough manner in which he had initially reacted to her suicide attempt.

"Shhh," he cajoled her.

"S-so s-scared," she muttered softly as the exhaustion of the day's events started to get to her and she allowed herself to sink into the gentle touch.

"I know," he whispered. "Everything's going to be alright, no one's going to hurt you, Felicity."

"It's not alright, it won't ever be alright," her soft words emerged, this time their cadence sounding remotely like helpless cries of someone in deep emotional pain.

"But it will," Willy whispered softly as he continued to stroke her face tenderly. "Just try to calm down, you're not alone."

Felicity tried to raise her head so as to see who it was who was speaking such a gentle array of words. When she could not raise her head, she lowered it again. "B-but I just want my life to be over."

"No, you just want the pain to end, but your life can't end, not like this," he whispered softly, "Not when you're needed." Instead of speaking further he somehow managed to turn her around so that she could finally see his face.

As recognition washed over her, she spoke, her single word filling the room, the cadence of it cracking with unhidden emotion. "Willy?"

"Yes," he whispered gently as he enfolded her in his embrace, her face once again finding its sanctuary against his chest and his hand holding gently, but securely, to one side of her head. "You're safe now, no one's going to hurt you," he repeated his earlier words as he began to rock her gently in his arms.

At that moment, she closed her eyes and started shaking her head frantically. "But, I'm not needed, everyone hates me and I hate myself," she whimpered softly. As the emotional pain somehow overwhelmed her, she bit down on her lip so hard that it drew blood. "No one could ever love me."

Willy took a deep breath, as his hold tightened on her, his fingers moving up her back until they dug into the soft brown hair that domed her head. "That's where you're wrong."

"No," she whimpered softly. "I just messed everything up."

"No, you didn't," he took a deep breath as he tried to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. What he did not expect was to hear her continuing to speak.

"I'm not deserving of anything good. I'm not good enough, I'll never be good enough…" she wept softly, her body now trembling uncontrollably. "I lied to you…and I'm a horrible, terrible person. I hate myself."

"No," he crooned softly as he continued to stroke her hair. As he tried to collect his thoughts, his eyes momentarily closed.

She had indeed given up on everything, yet he could not help but wonder if there was anything that he could say or do that might help her to believe that she held far more worth than she believed. Instead of trying to figure this out, he continued speaking. "You've done nothing wrong, Felicity."

"But, you said…" She whispered, but her words trailed off and she shook her head despondently. "…I mean; I thought you hated me."

"No, I don't," he whispered gently. "What I said to you back at the factory was wrong."

"No…" she whispered more to herself than to him.

"…Yes, it was," he said before she could continue. "I accused you of something that you didn't do. I played judge and jury without realizing that what I was doing was just as painful and devastating as what Jeremy Cooper had been doing to you. I hurt you deeply and I cannot rectify it, except to beg you to forgive me for having been such an insensitive clod."

"B-but Willy, what if you were right and I did murder Richard Cooper?" She whispered as Adam appeared into the room and started to make his way over to where they were seated.

Without warning the angel rested his hand on both of their shoulders, thus causing them to raise their heads and regard him with a question looming.

"It is now time for you to know the truth about the night Richard died, Felicity," the Angel of Death turned Caseworker spoke, his voice laced in gentility.


	25. Chapter 24: Truth and Tears

_Hello and welcome to the next installment of this story. Please let me know what you think of these installments. I have really tried to tie up all the loose ends before this story gets put to bed. _

_Enjoy, with my sincerest thanks. Jennionthisside, correction has been made. Thanks.  


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**Chapter 24: Truth and Tears**

As Felicity heard the words emerging from Adam, she raised her tearstained face to see that the angel was seated next to them on the ground, a soft glow was surrounding him as he regarded the young woman through loving blue eyes.

At that moment, Willy turned around and faced him. "But, Adam I thought you weren't going to tell her."

"I'm not, you are," he began, "but perhaps it might be a good idea for me to be present when you do."

"W-why?" Felicity whispered. "I mean; h-how did you get in here?"

"Adam is an angel, dear lady," Willy said. "He can get anywhere he needs."

"An angel?" She asked as she looked at the new arrival, her expression laced in wonder.

"Yes, he came here to help us," Willy explained. "He's the one who told me what really happened the night Richard Cooper died."

"Y-you know what happened?" She whispered softly.

"Yes, I do," Adam said with a nod of his head. When she started to turn away from him, he could see the shame that enfolded her. Instead of allowing her to contend with these unfounded emotions, he continued speaking. "Felicity, you must know that you did nothing that would deem you unworthy of simple human compassion. You are deeply loved and you deserve far more than what you have been given."

"He's right, you know," Willy said nodding. "You are loving, kind, and a very special lady. You demonstrated that by showing me all the things that are embodied in a true and valued friend."

"But I'm still afraid," she whispered. "What if I did do what Jeremy said and now there are angels who have to tell me that God hates me as much as I hate myself?"

Willy looked at Adam and when he saw the shocked expression on the angel's face, he took a deep breath as he tried to find the words he wanted to say. "Felicity, you were a victim of an unbelievable and terrible circumstance. It was something so implausible that I, myself, had a hard time believing it even after you tried to tell me what it was you knew." He paused. "You see, my dear, it took a very stubborn and determined angel to reach out and tell me what really happened. Through Adam I learned that there may be ways to calculate things with logic, but you cannot figure everything in that manner."

"I don't understand," she whispered weakly.

"It's not really that important," he said with a casual smirk. "I mean; it is, but right now, my psychological realizations should not be of any great significance or relevance here. The thing you need to know is that I do believe you and I should never have doubted your sincerity. It was Adam who convinced me of the truth, but I should have looked in my own heart to discover it instead of getting angry with you."

"I still don't understand," she whispered.

He took a deep breath. "Felicity, do you truly believe that you killed Richard Cooper?"

Felicity first looked at Adam and then back over to Willy. "That's the trouble, I-I don't know."

"What does your heart tell you?" Adam asked. "Listen to the voice inside of you and trust it. That's the very same message as the one I gave to Willy."

She lowered her head, but instead of only being able to stare down at her lap, she felt a pair of gentle hands taking her chin and carefully tipping it up until she was looking into the depths of Willy's concerned eyes. "I-I…" her voice trailed off. After taking several deep inhalations of air, she began to search for the single word answer that would relieve her conscience of the misery she had endured.

"No!" Eventually emerged from her in the form of a shrill cry. As it filled the room, she allowed her body to collapse into the arms of Willy Wonka.

The chocolatier nodded, but instead of looking down at her, he glanced over to where Adam was seated. "Should I tell her everything?" He whispered. It was clear that he did not want to mention to her that she came very close to being raped. Somehow, he knew that Richard's death had, in essence, saved her from that nightmarish experience.

"No, just tell her how Richard died, that's all she really needs to know," the angel said softly. He agreed with his assignment that Felicity's emotional state would not handle the rest of the story; at least not yet. To know the real cause of Richard's death would take away all the control and power that Jeremy Cooper had over her and that was enough for the moment.

Willy looked down at the young woman who lay exhausted in his arms. When she slowly raised her head, he spoke, the simple statement emerging. "Richard died from a heart attack, Felicity. His death was not your fault."

"A heart attack?" She looked at Adam. "It can't be."

"It's the truth," Adam said with a nod of his head. "My friend, Andrew, was there when it happened, and if you need any further proof, then just go to the Southside Memorial Hospital. That was where he was brought after the paramedics picked him up. They will affirm to you that he died from fibrillations of the heart, which were brought about by an excess of drugs combined with alcohol."

"I-I'm not at fault?" She whispered.

"You never were, Felicity. What Jeremy was doing to you was wrong, and perhaps it was the result of his own internalized guilt about what had happened that night," Adam said. "The important thing for you to know is that you are no longer under his control and you can do with your life what you wish, as that is what God intended. You should never be a slave to someone else's wishes, you must simply allow your heart and your conscience to lead you to where you need to go."

She nodded. "Does God know that I'm still afraid?"

"Yes, He knows," Adam said with a gentle nod of his head. "That's why he sent Sam to look in on you. He knew that you needed an angel, and so He sent you the best in the business." As he spoke, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Sam? Y-you mean the maintenance guy?" She asked. "He's an angel, too?"

"Yes," Adam nodded. "And he made certain that you were not alone during the moments when you thought you were."

"But God knows what I wanted to do…" she whispered as her voice cracked nervously. "…What Willy kept me from doing."

"Yes, He knows," Adam affirmed. "However, He is fully aware that all you wanted was to stop feeling the hurt and pain, which you had suffered from. That's why He somehow inspired Willy to come into your life. He wanted you to have another person who could offer you the courage and strength that would enable healing to your broken spirit." He took a deep breath before addressing the chocolatier. "That's why He sent Felicity into your life, Willy. He knew that your spirit was just as vulnerable as hers was."

Willy looked away, his eyes closing as a silent tear slid from beneath the lids. "Does He really believe that my spirit is shattered?"

"He doesn't believe it, Willy, He knows," Adam said simply. "He knows that when Jeremy destroyed your Inventing Room that he destroyed a part of you. He knows that, to you, this was more than just a bunch of machinery; it was like a living, breathing presence in your life – a sense of accomplishment, and a knowing that you are the very best at what you do."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Willy said sadly. "Because of what he did, I'm going to have to close the factory. It is going to take me years to get everything repaired."

"Then take some time to grieve what it is you have lost, Willy," the angel advised gently. "Both you and Felicity will require some time in order to overcome the pain. Do for yourselves what has long been denied. But, do take good care of each other as your love and understanding of one another is the most important and precious thing that exists."

The chocolatier nodded as the angel disappeared, once more leaving them alone.

"H-he's gone," she whispered.

"Yes, and if I had doubted whether or not he was an angel before then I can honestly say that those doubts are no longer present."

"W-what about Jeremy?" She asked softly.

"What about him?" He asked with a smile. "You know the truth now, and that will make you stronger if ever the day comes when you face him again," he said firmly as he helped her up off the floor. Once they were standing he led her over to the bed and they sat down. "Perhaps one of the things that Adam alluded to is that we should both go to the police and file criminal charges against Jeremy Cooper; you for oppression and me for what he did to the Inventing Room."

"He really destroyed it?" She asked softly.

"Yes, but I'll manage somehow. I still have the schematics for the machines. Perhaps it would be a good idea to close the business for a time and clean up the mess he made. I figure that I could always use the rumors of spies as rationale for it."

She looked at him, her eyes somewhat wide, but her soft voice emerged. "They weren't rumors, Willy. Jeremy wanted me to flirt with you and steal your recipes. That was what happened in the break room just before Adam found me; I had refused."

She started to get to her feet, but stopped when he reached out and grasped her hand. "He beat you up because of that, didn't he?"

She lowered her head and nodded. "H-he said that he would go to the police and tell them about Richard." As she spoke, the tears streamed helplessly down her face. "I was so afraid that I would end up rotting in prison because I didn't know what happened that night. He said that if I told you anything about what he was doing, then he would make sure that something worse than a stolen recipe would happen to you. I was afraid of taking any chances."

"You were very brave," he said softly. "Of course, I was foolish enough to actually believe him. You, Gertrude, and Clarence Bucket were right all along about Jeremy Cooper."

"Clarence was a really nice man," Felicity said softly. "I didn't know him very well, but I had some time to get to know him before he left. He was always so nice to me."

Willy nodded as he looked around and noticed the emptiness of the room where they were seated. "So the question remains: What are we going to do?"

"We?" She whispered.

Instead of immediately answering, he reached for her hand. "Yes, 'we', but that's only if you want to try. I know that Adam thought I ought to take care of you, but you have been taking care of me as well." He exerted a squeeze to her hand as he brought it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "In doing so, you have honored me."

"It's because I really do c-are about you," she said shyly.

"I may not have shown it that well during the past days but I care about you as well," he said softly. "I suppose I should tell you that I know now that you were telling the truth about the Gobstopper recipe. Adam found it on the floor after you had left. I suppose it fell out of the book. At any rate, I was forced to accept that I had behaved very badly towards you."

She looked down at her hands and shrugged her shoulders. "It's my fault, I should have told you what I knew about that night. I-I just couldn't find the words and I was afraid of how you might have reacted. Not to mention the fact that I felt so ashamed."

"You have no reason to feel shame any longer," he said gently. "You were never at fault for what Jeremy was forcing you to do."

As her gaze came to rest on her lap she found her voice. "But I do. How can I even believe in myself if I never knew what actually happened? He controlled me for so long and now I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next. I mean; do I still work for you or did you fire me?"

"No to both questions; you don't work for me anymore, but I didn't fire you. Even when I was upset with you, I never told you that you were fired," he said. "And before you even ask, I do have a very good memory of what I said."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"My reactions were purely emotional," he began. "They were about our personal relationship away from the factory. What I said to you had nothing to do with your work or ability to fulfill a task." He took a deep breath but continued to stroke her cheek gently. "You did what you were asked to do and you did it with all care and love that there is. That was enough to keep me satisfied as your employer."

She smiled slightly, but lowered her head. "I liked working for you is all. I mean; it may sound naïve and stupid, but you were the kindest boss I ever had."

"I hope that now I can be more than just a boss or even a casual friend to you," he whispered with a gentle smile. "Felicity, do you remember what you said to me back at the factory?"

She shook her head. "No, but it was probably because I said a lot of stuff."

"You told me that you loved me," he whispered.

In lieu of speaking, she lowered her head shyly.

Seeing this made Willy smile, but amidst that, he began to speak. "It became obvious to me when you tried to sacrifice yourself for my sake. You see, my dear, no one has ever shown me the extent of their love as you have done. I suppose many people love what it is I do but not the person that I am. You know as well as I that that is not the same thing."

She raised her head and looked into the depths of his blue eyes. What she saw there was a sense of hope that mirrored her own. Was this his way of telling her that despite everything that had happened; he really loved her? "No it's not," she whispered softly as she felt herself being drawn into his arms. With her head now resting against his chest, she took a deep breath. "What's going to happen to me?"

Willy took a deep breath. "I don't know, but perhaps you can start by looking towards the future instead of dwelling on the past."

"I don't understand."

"Well, I would bet that the angels would say something like 'use the truth to fight back and through that you will find healing'," he said smiling. "My guess is that we might start by putting in a statement at the police."

"You'd go with me to do that?" She whispered. "What if they tried to arrest me?

"Whatever for? You didn't do anything," he said somewhat exasperated.

When she did not respond to his words, he continued. "Listen, it only takes a little bit of logic to infer that you are not a culprit, but instead, a victim. Although Jeremy said that he was there, he would have to offer up more proof to back up his assertions than simple hearsay. He would need a doctor or a medical examiner to prove his assertions. All they would have to do is run an autopsy on the body, and they will find more drugs in Richard's system than that, which can be obtained at the local pharmacy." He paused. "I didn't want to say this when Adam was here as it seems a trifle judgmental, but Felicity, the one who is the monster and belongs behind bars is Jeremy; not you."

"For so long I believed him," she whispered. "You must think me a fool."

"No, I don't, but it was probably because I did the same thing," he said.

"I'm still afraid," she whispered.

"I know, but if it helps, maybe that's why Adam was here. Look, we both made mistakes, but there is hope because the truth does set you free." Instead of speaking further, he leaned towards her and allowed his lips to brush lightly against hers.

Once he had withdrawn, he continued speaking. "You know, the greatest lesson in all of this is discovering that the things that may sound factual may not necessarily be true." He took a deep breath. As he released it, he could not help but notice how she had looked away. He reached over and touched her face. "Please look at me, dearest lady."

She raised her head and found herself looking deeply into a pair of caring blue eyes. It was at that moment that she knew beyond any doubt that she loved this man with all her heart.

"I want to ask you to forgive me for having hurt you," he whispered. "I was wrong and I'm so dreadfully sorry for that." As he spoke, he could still feel the tears as they streamed from beneath her eyes and rolled down over her cheeks. Feeling the moisture, he smeared them away as he took a deep and staggering breath. In that stance, he allowed his thumb to rake gently over her lips as his next words emerged. "I love you."

"Really?" She asked weakly.

Instead of responding verbally, he nodded as he leaned towards her and captured either side of her face in his strong and loving hands. As soon as she felt the gentle touch, she closed her eyes as she felt him tipping her face upwards. With his fingers still lightly stroking her face, her heart literally skipped a beat as she felt his lips lovingly pressed against her own.

As soon as this had happened, Felicity's own lips molded against his and she allowed her arms to wrap around him and hold as tightly to him as she could. Moments later, the kiss intensified.

When it broke several moments later, she licked her lips as she backed away from him and looked into his eyes. "You still love me regardless of the things I have done?" She asked weakly.

"I love you more than you will ever know, Felicity," he said as he wrapped her gently in his arms and held tightly to her.


	26. Chapter 25: Endings and Beginnings

_I guess this is the last chapter of the story. All that is left is the epilogue, which I hope to get finished and posted in the coming days. I want to thank the kind people who have stuck with me throughout this story. I know there were moments when I had thought about leaving the project and the encouraging words that people left in their reviews and PMs about this story really helped me to see it through to completion. _

_Once this is done, it may take some time for me to get some of the other stuff finished, but I think that I will take a break and work on the stuff that has already been started here. I need to finish what I started._

_Here's hoping you enjoy this and again my thanks. YaYa the part you noted has been changed, thanks!  


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**Chapter 25: Endings and Beginnings**

Willy and Felicity left the apartment building some twenty minutes later. Instead of watching someone carry her or her belongings out, he watched as she locked the door and they made their way down the hallway in the direction of the front door.

"Remind me to buy you a bottle of bleach," the chocolatier muttered under his breath they stepped outside. Much to his relief, there was no one in the area, in fact, the only thing to greet them was the warmth of the sun. "If you intend to remain in this apartment, you need to get rid of that mold in there."

"I had other concerns," she confessed softly as she followed him over towards the car and watched as he unlocked it. Once he had opened the door, he motioned with his hand for her to get in. As soon as she was seated in the passenger seat, he closed the door before walking around the car and getting behind the wheel. As soon as he had seated himself, she looked over at him. "Willy, are you sure this is such a good idea?"

"Yes, I think it is," he affirmed. "If anyone else tries to bring harm to you, I'll get in touch with my lawyer and make certain that they regret it. Besides, I still have to file charges against Jeremy for destroying my property. I do not know the extent of punishment that that will entail, but we do have several reasons to go there, and the most important is that you won't be alone."

She nodded nervously. "I know you're right, but I'm still scared."

Instead of immediately speaking, he offered a slight nod. "It's going to be alright, Felicity." With that, he started the motor and they drove several blocks before he pulled the car to the side of the road and began to laugh.

"What?" She raised her head.

In response to this inquiry, he cut the motor as a sly smile spread across his face. "Well, would you look at that?" He asked as he pointed to the other side of the road. "It looks like our friend Jeremy is having a bit of car trouble."

Felicity's gaze followed his pointed finger and despite herself, she smiled. The car was still smoking profusely and Jeremy was kicking the tires as well as wafting his hands about to keep from breathing it. For several moments, she watched him and eventually, instead of feeling fearful, she slowly started to get out of the car.

"What are you doing?" Willy asked.

"It may not be the most angelic thing for me to do, but I think we owe it to Jeremy to rub his nose in it," she said, her voice suddenly changing, and he could detect a trace of anger in it.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" He asked. "There's no telling what he is capable of."

"Maybe, but he seems to be too preoccupied with the horrendous state of his car to give us any attention," she said as she closed the door.

Seconds later, Willy got out as well. By the time he had closed the door, she had rounded his parked car and joined him. Once she was standing next to him, she reached for his hand. "Besides, you said that I may one day have to face him, and I'd rather do it now than to live my life fearing every day that he's going to pop up like a mushroom and make my life even more a misery than he has already done."

Willy looked at her. "But, you're still afraid," he whispered.

She nodded. "Terrified, but with you standing by me, maybe I can actually do this."

Willy nodded and with his arm securely wrapped around her shoulder, the couple slowly crossed the street and stopped the moment they were standing several meters from the car. At that moment and despite his better judgment, the chocolatier began to laugh loudly at the other man's predicament.

This caused Jeremy to raise his head and an angry scowl abruptly lined his features. Instead of responding kindly, Willy's laughter increased and soon Felicity began to laugh as well.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jeremy shouted, his voice shrill as he regarded the couple through hostile eyes. If truth were known, Jeremy Cooper felt the humiliation washing over him at having his foes see him in such a wretched state.

This increased by leaps and bounds when he saw that Willy's arm was wrapped gently, but possessively, around her shoulder. Wordlessly, he started towards the young woman with the intent of confronting her, but what he did not expect was for Willy to step between them, his hand reaching out and thumping against Jeremy's chest.

"If you so much as lay one finger on her, I will most assuredly make certain that you get locked away for the rest of your natural life," he threatened.

"Why do you want anything to do with her?" Jeremy asked. "I told you that she murdered my brother."

"No, she did not," Willy said shaking his head. "You know that that is a lie, and through those words alone, I have reached the conclusion that you are even less a man than I initially thought. You blindly accuse a young woman of murder when it was your brother's overwhelming stupidity that killed him. That is not the makings of a man, that is the intentions of a coward." He turned towards her and spoke, his voice filling the area. "Tell Jeremy what you discovered about his brother just now."

Felicity raised her head and regarded her tormentor. "Richard had a heart attack that night. I don't know what you and your friends were intending to do to me, but I can only surmise that given how you behaved these past few weeks; it was nothing good or noble. I know that you used my inability to recall the events as a way of controlling me. Well, no more, I will not be your puppet on a string. It's my life, not yours, and if you want people to beg, steal, or borrow for you, then you'll have to find someone else to do it."

Jeremy's eyes widened. She knew the truth, but how?

He turned and looked at Willy. The chocolatier still held her gently in his hold, but regarded him through hostile eyes. "Since it looks as though you'll not be going anywhere anytime soon, I will give you the option of going to the authorities yourself and confessing to the destruction of my Inventing Room as well as oppressing Felicity. Either that, or we will simply stop off at their presidium on our way back to the factory and have them come and collect you." With a smirk lining his face, the chocolatier started to turn away.

"I will not do anything of the kind," Jeremy sneered as he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and flipped it open. Before he could so much as do anything to the candy maker or her, Felicity snatched the caramel colored top hat from off of Willy's head and threw it at Jeremy, the action taking both men by complete surprise. This was enough to make Jeremy clumsily drop the knife and fall backwards onto the pavement.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Felicity went over and stood over her tormentor with a relieved smile lining her face. Willy watched this, all the while noticing that her hands were no longer trembling. Somehow it had become more than clear that she had become a great deal braver and more certain of herself since learning the truth.

The chocolatier stared in wonder at her as she went over and retrieved the candy maker's hat as well as the knife before looking down at Jeremy and speaking.

"'To care for anyone else enough to make their problems one's own, is ever the beginning of one's real ethical development'," she said. _(Felix Adler)_ Pocketing the knife, she simply smiled, knowing full well that there was very little Jeremy could do to stop her. She cast a glance over towards his still smoking car and her expression shifted from that of an earnest smile to one of unmistakable amusement.

At that moment, she returned to Willy's side and with a casual motion of her hand, she began to dust the particles of dirt from off his hat. Smiling sheepishly, she returned the object to him. "Sorry about that?"

"Why?" He asked. "That was pretty amazing."

"Adrenaline is a pretty miraculous thing," she whispered as they started to make their way back across the street and over towards his car. "So, what do you think is going to happen to him now?"

Willy cast a glance in the direction of where Jeremy still lay, his body sprawled out on the ground like a freshly felled tree. "To be completely honest, I don't much care. My concern was to keep you safe, but somehow after seeing you in action, I don't think you really need my protection at all."

"Maybe you inspired me," she whispered as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Perhaps, but the next time you get angry, remind me to keep my best hat away from your wrath." He smirked. "Of course I think that Jeremy Cooper will no doubt live out his days in regret – and humiliation."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he will no doubt find himself locked away, but he will be subjected to living in regret of not having treated others in a kinder and more gentle way…" His expression did not shift, but he pointed to where a small brownish gray colored dog had approached where Felicity's oppressor lay.

Despite himself, Willy was once more overcome with amusement as he watched how the animal lifted his leg and a steady stream of moisture dribbled across Jeremy's face. "…Perhaps that little dog senses it, too. At any rate, once we go to the police, there is absolutely no way that Jeremy Cooper will ever be able to do anything to harm you again."

"You mean; it's over?" She whispered.

"Yes, it's finally over," he affirmed. "Now, I think we ought to go and put this chapter of our lives behind us once and for all. Then we can move on to something a lot better."

Felicity nodded as the couple got into the car and drove off in the direction of the police station.

* * *

On the other side of the street, Adam and Sam stood watching with matching smiles spread across their faces.

Sam turned to face his younger friend. "You did it, congratulations Adam, but there is still something I wanted to ask you."

"What's that?" Adam asked.

"That 'best in the business' remark you made when you were speaking with Felicity and Willy. Was that really the truth, or were you trying to keep me from getting on to you about disregarding the Father's instructions back at the factory?" Sam asked with a nudge to Adam's side.

"It was the truth, Sam," Adam said. "I wasn't really thinking about my fate at that moment. I was just realizing the extent that I respect you and how, at that moment, I knew that you were the best angel for Felicity."

"Thank you," the Supervisor's supervisor said with a smile as the two of them disappeared and reappeared at the front gate of Willy's factory.

Unlike in the days gone by, the place was now locked up and all that they could make out was the courtyard that was visible between the iron bars of the front gate. Adam recalled how Willy had locked the gate when they had left to go find Felicity.

This now seemed like a strange foreshadowing of the things to come.

As Adam stepped closer to the gate, he peered out across the courtyard before turning back and looking at his supervisor. "In some ways we still failed."

"How do you mean?" Sam asked.

"He's still going to close this place," Adam said.

"Yes, but that wasn't why you were sent here, Adam," Sam said.

"It wasn't?"

When Sam shook his head, Adam closed his eyes. "So, did you want to remind me that I was ready to give up on Willy after Jeremy destroyed the Inventing Room?"

"No, that's not it either," Sam said with an adamant shake of his head. "The reason is something you will see very soon, just be patient."

"Alright, so what will happen to Felicity and Willy? I mean; are they going to be okay?"

"'Okay' is a relative term, but for necessity's sake, I think they will be just fine," Sam said. "Willy and Felicity have each other now, and they will prove to be much stronger than anyone thinks. Just as they were when they confronted Jeremy just now."

"But Willy's still going to close the factory, isn't he?"

"Yes, he will close, but not permanently. You see, contrary to the challenges that he faced during these past weeks, there is a good news to come, Adam," the elder angel said. "During the coming years, I predict that they will ultimately get the Inventing Room fixed up before something very surprising takes hold of the world. God didn't just send us here for the sake of saving Willy's work, He sent us so that the future will happen as intended." To emphasize his point, the elder of the two angels pointed. Adam turned and watched as the lone figure of a small boy walked over to the factory gates, his hand stretching out and touching the iron structure.

"Wait a minute, Sam I know that child," Adam said. "He was the one who convinced me to go and see Willy and tell him about what happened to Felicity."

"He was indeed the catalyst, and it stands to reason that Charlie Bucket would be the reason for all of us; you, me, Tess, and Andrew being present at this particular time. You see, the Father has great things planned for both him and Willy. They will meet again."

"Again, but they've never seen each other before," Adam objected.

"Oh yes, they did. Willy had gone to the cemetery and he spoke to Charlie briefly, but neither of them will fully recall what had transpired as this was what you might dub as a fleeting moment," Sam said. "The thing you need to understand in having been given this particular case is the internal knowing that God does not just send an Angel of Death to take a boy's father Home, but He also sends someone to help the family cope and accept the pain that the passing had brought about. That's why Andrew stayed, and why you were sent to Willy."

"But he didn't lose anyone," Adam objected.

"He nearly lost his dream, and that, Adam, can create just as massive a hole in someone's life as the physical loss of a loved one," Sam said. "You knew this the moment you tried to save the machines in the Inventing Room."

"But I was wrong, Sam. All that I did was get a massive migraine headache for my troubles," he objected.

"You saw the machines as the manifestation of a man's dream, and you tried to help sustain that," Sam said. "That is what Willy is going to remember about you, Adam, and perhaps it is something that you should not forget either."

"So, the Father gave me this case to remind me that I don't just bring souls Home, but that I do actually possess the ability to help them," Adam said.

Sam nodded as he motioned towards where Charlie was still standing, the tiny hands of the child still holding the bars as he peered into the courtyard. He smiled and turned away from where the boy was standing.

"Sam, just tell me this: How much longer will it be for Charlie before those changes start to happen in his life?" Adam asked.

"You're wondering if the Father sends an angel to an impoverished family and then instructs them to leave all the while they are still living on cabbage water," Sam began. "Is that what you're asking?"

"Sort of," Adam said. "I'm just wondering how it is we can assume that this child will one day live to see his lot in life change or how Willy Wonka figures into that equation at all. I mean; will he manage to rise above the issues that have caused him to close his factory in the first place? I just don't know the answers. I mean; in some ways, I do feel as though I failed somehow."

"Just wait Adam, you will be pleasantly surprised," Sam said. "Let's just say that the name Willy Wonka will not fade away into obscurity like we may be thinking right now. That's not why God sent us here."

"I know you said that, but I still think that you are still being a bit vague as to why He sent us in the first place," Adam said.

"Wait and see," Sam said simply. "Just wait and see…"


	27. Epilogue: Happily Ever After

_Here is the last installment of the story. I hope you enjoyed this. If you did, please let me know. Reviews are not only encouraging when in the middle of a story, but they do help inspire future stories._

_Many thanks and happy reading. Although I don't know if an angel would use the term 'Happily Ever After' at all, I did take a creative liberty here because it somehow fit with the wonderful ending of the film. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing.  
_

_Yva J.

* * *

  
_

**Epilogue: Happily Ever After**

**Seven Years Later**

**October 1, 1971**

The factory was a buzz with activity. The day had arrived when Willy Wonka planned to open the front gates after a seven year long silence. Felicity Jacobs, now Wonka, awoke from a dreamless slumber. She yawned and stretched as she looked over at her husband who lay sleeping next to her. She smiled as she shoved the covers to one side and started to crawl out of bed.

It had been a trying time, the years had passed with speed and efficiency, thus leaving her rather surprised by the changes that had taken place in both of their lives. There was no question, life was better than she could have anticipated.

The Golden Ticket contest had come about and this particular day would mark the moment when Willy would select the child who would one day take his place in the candy industry.

Felicity had been a bit worried when her husband announced that he would be opening the factory after having lived as a virtual recluse during this time. The time off had afforded them the chance to travel and see the world as well as find the trusted workers who would help in the running of the factory and fixing the machines that Jeremy Cooper had wrecked.

Today, Felicity's tormentor was behind bars serving out a combined 20 year sentence for destruction of personal property, attempted rape, assault, and oppression. After Felicity had stepped forward with her story, several other women had found the very same courage to report his less than gentlemanly manner with them. In the days and weeks that followed, the paralleled stories would succeed in bringing a great deal of trauma and uncertainty to light.

Casting off the problems of the past, Felicity turned around to see that Willy was getting out of bed. Watching him, she smiled slightly. "Today's the day," she said as he came over and wrapped her gently in his arm. "Do you have any regrets, Willy?"

"No, why should I?" He asked smiling. "I think somehow I will find my new apprentice today. I think that it will work out better than we anticipate."

"You're really not angry that I can't give us a child?" She asked as she recalled the words of her doctor some four years ago.

This had been a crushing blow for both of them, but the chocolatier was more than determined to not allow this bit of information to destroy them. Soon after that, he realized that the thing to do would be to pass his work onto a child who appreciated his work. Through that, he concocted the Golden Tickets as a test to his potential apprentice.

Instead of dwelling on the past, he looked down at her. "I never was angry with you, my dear," he said. "I will concede to the fact that it was hard at first, but now I wouldn't change a thing."

Releasing her, he went over to the closet and began to move aside the clothing that now hung there. "I only hope that ticket number five will have been found before ten this morning or else I might have to choose between that unsavory lot that found the other four."

"The girl with the bubble gum seemed alright, considering that her father's a used car dealer. Maybe that explains a great deal more than either of us could anticipate." She said with an impish smile. She watched him dig through the clothing in the cabinet and toss the articles onto the bed. After several moments, she noticed that he was trying to figure out what clothing he would wear that day.

"You should wear the purple jacket, Willy, that one makes your eyes look prettier than they already are." She smiled as she went over and fished out the jacket and laid it across the, still unmade, bed. "And the floral vest and green bow tie."

"I think you're partial to that outfit because I wore it the day I interviewed you nearly seven and a half years ago," he said smirking. "But, to save on my insanity, I'll do as you advise if you would do me a favor and see if Kumalya has the daily paper. Maybe there will be some news about the fifth Golden Ticket finder there."

"Maybe," Felicity mused as she went over and opened the door that led from their private suite into a long hallway. This corridor was one, which she had grown accustomed to the moment she had moved into the factory and became Mrs. Willy Wonka. The hallway was an emergency passageway that extended along the perimeters of her and Willy's living quarters. Whenever something pressing would come up, Willy would access it as a quick means to reach the Wonkavator and get to the part of the factory where the emergency had taken place. Felicity merely used it as a means to retrieve the newspaper each morning.

As she came out into the hallway, the Oompa Loompa worker was standing, the paper in his hand and a smile stretched across his face. "Someone found the ticket, Mrs. Wonka."

"Thank you, Kumalya, I am certain that Willy will be thrilled," she said as she tucked the paper under her arm. "Did they report who it was who found it?"

"Yes, a local boy by the name of Charlie Bucket," the Oompa Loompa said.

"Charlie Bucket?" She whispered as she unfolded the paper and looked down at the face of the child who would be meeting her husband later that day. "He looks just like…" Her voice trailed off as the Oompa Loompa took his leave. "…his father."

As she ran her hand over the smooth texture of the newspaper, she nodded and smiled. Willy would find his successor after all, of that she was positively certain.

She refolded the newspaper and tucked it under her arm before making her way back down the hallway in the direction of her and Willy's bedroom.

* * *

What Felicity did not see was Adam. He was now standing in the hallway and watching the woman's actions. She had changed during the course of the past years, he had noticed, but she looked much stronger and more certain of herself.

This, if anything, made the angel smile, even though he knew that she was not the reason as to why he had come back.

It was unclear why it was that he had been sent there that particular day, but there he stood nonetheless. He watched as the door closed behind her, but just before he could leave the empty hallway, Sam appeared and rested his hand on Adam's shoulder. "Adam, do you understand why you were sent here seven years ago?"

The Angel of Death shook his head. "Not quite clear, but it's not as great a mystery as before. I realize that if we hadn't have been there, then Willy would never have taken a break and gone to save a race of people."

"That's part of it, but what about Felicity?" Sam pressed.

"She would probably have died at the hands of Jeremy Cooper," he said.

"Probably," Sam nodded. "What about Willy?"

"I'm not certain, based on what I just witnessed, Willy would probably never have found an apprentice or anyone to continue his work."

"You learn fast," Sam said smiling.

"So, does that mean that Charlie Bucket will become Willy Wonka's protégé, Sam?" Adam asked.

The elder of the two angels took a deep breath, but regarded the younger angel through shining eyes. "Just wait and see…"

"That's what you said seven years ago," Adam feigned frustration.

"And, what did you discover?"

"Maybe that things have their ways of working out," Adam said. "But, that doesn't really answer my question."

"Then you'll have to wait and see," Sam said smiling. "Perhaps we ought to be outside the gates, as that is where the next leg of Willy and Charlie's journey is going to begin."

Adam nodded as the two angels disappeared and reappeared about a hundred meters from the front gate, this time in human form. Above their heads, the sky was blue and cloudless, the wind calmly blowing a cool breeze. All around them excited children and adults waited for the hour of ten to strike.

"Are they going to need us again?" Adam asked. He was trying to keep his voice low, but attempted to speak loud enough so that his fellow angel could hear him over the excited voices of the onlookers.

Sam shook his head. "No, this time we're here for a different reason."

"Not for Willy, Charlie or his family?" Adam asked. When Sam shook his head, he continued. "What about Felicity?"

"No, Adam," Sam still shook his head. "The Father sent us back here for you."

"For me?" The angel was confused.

"Yes, He knew that you would want to know what happened to them, and He wanted you to see that humans sometimes do have their ways of making the most of their situations. That is why you were sent back here."

"Only because of me," Adam said shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes, Felicity, Willy, and Charlie don't need an angel anymore, they have everything under control," Sam said with a smile.

"Will I get to see them again?"

"Someday, perhaps, but what you need to know is that they will live 'happily ever after'."

As the Supervisor was speaking, he raised his hand and pointed skyward to where a white dove was flying over the crowds of people.

Several moments later, the clock struck ten o'clock and the door leading into the factory slowly opened. At that moment, Adam and Sam disappeared.

No one was paying attention or even knew that there were angels present. Instead, they were staring transfixed into the courtyard as Willy Wonka emerged.

The End.


End file.
